Soledad! My grandmother says it as if she’d been calling me all day. Now everything is starting to make sense, she says, grabbing my arms, squeezing to feel how thin I am. Sense? I was praying for you to come. Gorda grabs me, smiling from ear to ear, exposing the small gap between her two front teeth. Soledad, we think your mother’s resolving some things in her sleep.
Beliefs of the beyond, connected to my previous note
