Cantoras

by Carolina De Robertis

Butchers could be kind, loving, spurred by generosity.

That’s how it was. How the world was. Even when loved, you were never fully seen.

Paz read between the lines: her lover didn’t want a life of hiding, a life chained to a university dropout who smelled like sealskins and could never be presented to her family. Could never make a family with her. The gold in the ring, the approval of Papá, more important than love.

“It’s the power,” she said gently. “They want the power to be safe, and accepted. To have lives free of shame.”