One could gaze upwards and watch the sun the flutter through the air.
One could stare forwards and peer trees of pure-carat gold.
One could raise a hand to an eye and see their flesh radiating a light only heaven could possess.
Yet come a fortnight, Abuela said, no more would the butterflies beget those gold leaves. Stripped of their monarchal ornaments, Mexico's trees bear only scant sage foliage and flaxen bark. An inevitability to haunt many an enraptured soul.
YOU ARE READING
Sin Las Mariposas, a Dora Story
Fiksi PenggemarA blissful romanticization of the fleeting relationship between Dora (of *Dora the Explorer) and her cousin Diego as they chose new paths in the wake of a traumatic series of disappearances.
