“You think your life is unfurling in a certain way, and you let yourself grow happy about it, a smile rising at the slightest thing. A boy in short pants eating a pastelito makes you grin like a lunatic at the vision of your own hoped‐for children, their dark shiny heads rising, year by year, from the Cuban earth, your wife towering behind them, kind and wise. Then you find yourself in a midnight cemetery guarding your mustache from the covetous ghost of an American woman you once loved. Who wouldn’t laugh?” UniqueGhostsHauntingLiterary FictionSurrealCubaMagical RealismCemeterySpeculative FictionCollection Book:The Only Sound Is the Wind: Stories Source: The Only Sound Is the Wind: Stories
“You might think the desert dreams of the sea, but I think deserts dream of other deserts, scorched spaces just like themselves. With them, they don’t feel so alien, so bizarre. They don’t have the bother of explaining—the way they would with the sea—how it is they’re all sand and rock and sagebrush and how the only sound is the wind across the earth.” SurrealMagical RealismBeautiful WritingShort Story CollectionCollectionStrong Characters Book:The Only Sound Is the Wind: Stories Source: The Only Sound Is the Wind: Stories