Our Share of Night

by Mariana Enriquez

Living in Argentina didn’t take away from her importance: money, as the Bradfords often said, is a nation in itself.

To her, love was impure. I, on the other hand, have had so little love that it seems to me like a delicate jewel, and I’m terrified of losing it. My fear is not just that I’ll misplace it, like an earring on a night of sex or sweaty dancing, it’s that it will evaporate and vanish like alcohol.

Juan had always said: Mercedes is a priestess of repulsive gods, and we always take after the gods we worship.