October 24, 2020 - De aquí hasta allá
September 14, 2020 - Eastward bound
August 12, 2020 - Entre oscuro y claro - Flash Fiction: 12
Flash Fiction: 12
At a bustop in front of a small restaurant. A man down on his luck attempts to get the attention of the crowd of six freezing souls waiting for the bus to pull up. Most, if not all of them, are heading to work across town. He looks at everybody but no one will look at him. He starts to speak.
“You can say my name is Xava. If that’s what you want. Or Salvador if you prefer to be proper. Either way, I’m the same guy. Jeans and a t-shirt wearing, sing of the cross at freeways, nachos from the ice-cream truck guy. Needs to get some food in his belly kinda guy.
“I’m not worried about my name though. What I’d like to do is sell you this ring I have here. It has one diamond that’s a pretty good size.
“Ma’am, you interested? Sir? Want a closer look?
“No need to step back. Don’t be scared. Jesus. You all jumped back like I got that Covid. But I don’t. I don’t. I don’t have a lot of things and right now I’d like to get some money for food. This ring is worth a good amount. All I want is $100….. I’ll take $50.”
Not one reply or even nod from those standing. He releases a long breath that sends a cloud of cold smoke out of his mask. Some shoots up around his nose.
One of the men standing is holding two coffees in a cardboard container. He’s holding a small book in his other hand and he’s looking at Xava with extreme disdain in his eyes.
Xava catches the man’s eyes for a second and lets it sink in that this man hates him.
Ring! Ring! A bike riding on the sidewalk startles Xava forcing him to jump out of the way. Knocking the coffee out of the disdainful man’s hand and splashing it on his khakis. The man doesn’t even say a word. He simply reaches back and smacks Xava so hard it sends the ring twirling down the sidewalk, off the curb and into the sewage drain.
As the bus arrives and everyone gets on, Xava is left sitting on the floor rocking back and forth, in tears.
Meanwhile, inside the restaurant a woman and her child wait for Xava to return with money so they could eat.
August 06, 2020. - Nice view, tho - Flash Fiction: 6
Flash Fiction: 6
With a slight grudge against la pandemia, he walked over the First Street bridge and into the Arts District. He was trying to get some “outside” time to help with the lifting of his spirits. A mood change, if you will. The mandated self quarantine had started to fuck with his mental. He was certain he would grow roots at his toes if the didn’t get out.
Walking listlessly, left foot, right, he remembered this part of town when it was very different from what you see today. He thinks gentrification fucked everything up by making it look just like everywhere else. Where you once had one-of-a-kind establishments you now get the run of the mill brewery and baked goods. If it weren’t for the old buildings you might as well be in Glendale. (Or Monrovia, imagine that.)
Meh! Fuck everybody, he thought as he avoided every business. He didn’t want to give any of them his money. None looked like they needed it. It was too weird to get food from a woman in a face shield and gloves. Plus all of the outdoor seating annoyed him even before this madness.
Fed up, he decided to walk further in to downtown where he finally stopped at a hot dog lady. At least there he can catch a virus with his dignity intact.
The grease sizzled louder than the bus engine that just blew a ton of exhaust in his direction. Put a mask on that fucker.
Mayonesa?
Si.
Verdura?
Si. Pongale todo.
Jalapeño?
Si.
Covid?
Que?
She handed him the nectar of the city wrapped in a thin semblance of paper.
Did she really ask me if I wanted Covid?, he thought.
Coca?
O Peksi?
Oh, no. Una agua por favor.
Consider that hot dog swallowed. Gone in 6 seconds. The water went down slowly. He took his time, crumbled the plastic and put it in a little cardboard box with other recyclables.
As he wiped his mouth and hands he looked at her one more time wondering if she really asked if he wanted covid on his wiener. He felt she did.
With a slight grudge against the lady, he walked home to the sound of conspiracy theories in his head about who planted her on that corner and why he was the chosen victim.
He sat with those worries for two weeks, in quarantine. After the two weeks he still got tested to make sure he was negative.
His cooking has improved.