More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
‘Cómpreme coco, compadre, compadre, cómpreme coco. No compro coco, compadre, porque como poco coco como poco coco compro.’”
It was an emotional moment, like the seconds just before a referee whistles the start of the game, the instant before a kiss, or that moment before it rains when you can already smell the wet earth.
Everyone goes through difficulties in life. Health problems, money troubles, struggles with love—all of them more or less serious.
Those first months were the worst. Every night, as I gritted my teeth in rage under the weight of César’s sweaty body, I would dream about hiding a machete under the pillow, splitting his head open, and cutting his dick off, but to do so would be to sign my own death warrant.
What could I say? That she was perfect? Marvelous? Both at once? Perfelous? Marfect? Nothing seemed right.
She walked away, her hips swaying so beautifully that more than one clerk from El Encanto suffered a stiff neck that night from having turned his head too fast to look at her.
His mojitos were to die for or, in his own words, “They were the nun’s tits.”
Either do your chores right now or I’ll have Oswaldo the Bonebreaker come and squeeze the fat out of you, the mothers of Havana would say.
“I would go back to Asturias, but then who would fuck your mother?” Grescas said with a laugh.
Your boyfriends, I’m sure. Do the three of you get in the same bed to stem the rose?” “Yes, and there’s room for one more. You look like you could be a good lay.” Grescas winked and blew him a kiss.
“You can’t just let dictators get away with it without putting up a fight.
He was so handsome, I could’ve eaten him up with a side of potatoes right then and there.
