It started with a single choice, back when Benecio closed his eyes, made a wish on birthday candles, and decided he didn't want to spend his day off at home. The choice sparkled before his eyes like the stars in the sky shine on dark nights, faint twinkling points that burned themselves onto the back of his eyelids. Even now, when he closes his eyes against his burning world, he can still see those candles and taste that chocolate cake with its raspberry filling.
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I used to wonder who I'd be if I had a different mother, if like the Mixteco river, I too would know how to wash away the debris that inevitably finds its way into the waters of my life. I wonder if I'd survive like that river has survived the most egregious of human behavior.

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The church is silent save for the kneeling people at the front, that quiet murmuring from the mouths of the faithful. Belinda can hear the clicking of Tia Cata's heel against the linoleum as they make their way down the left side of the benches. There, on the side away from the crucifixes and the saints, Belinda can see into the vestibule at the front, the dark tiles and the clean counters that hold the communion wine. The priest will be in the back towards the left, in that little hallway that connects the vestibule to the room that holds the saints that only come out near Christmas.
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There is a room in my brain that I cannot enter.

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We can't drink when we're sad.
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I AM GOING TO GET THAT TO YOU ASAP SORRY LIFE IS BEING A DICK AND GETTING IN MY WAY BUT I AM GOING TO GET THAT TO YOU I PROMISE.

love,
me