Daily Writing Challenge

But that’s the colonizers. That’s the world of mortals. Which is the world of us espíritus de magia. Which is the same as your world.

It’s hard to say, what is real and what isn’t. See this hat? My sombrero vueltiao. For me, it’s a memory of an old friend.

Creation went in the Espinal family. When she and Lalo were little, their mother would go on and on about the poems their grandfather wrote.

Biblioteca Casa de la Luna had an impressive collection of books, the sort that one would associate with politically powerful towns like Palaclete y Fortín

Celia leaned against the bookstore cash register as she glanced at the cellphone in her hands. It wasn’t Celia’s—devices like it were rare in Huerto

Thanks for letting me use your bathroom,” said Tuatara. Tuatara preferred not to use bathrooms outside of her home. At home, she kept two stacks

Magda glanced through door of her son’s office. His mansion, nestled in the mountains that surrounded Huerto Viejo, was one of the few places she

Celia raised her eyebrows. She stood just outside the door to Don Saúl’s study, and nearly cringed at her for so doing. Stop thinking of

Sielu picked up the totuma bowl that Tuatara set next to the calabash tree. The leaves and flowers on the calabash tree were larger than

In Las Acacias, everything had a soul. Tatiana thought that made sense, when the town was south of a giant city of dead people and

This matches up with one of Don Saúl’s maps, bunch of underground tunnels,” said Celia suddenly. “Oh! Are you okay?” Celia the bookstore clerk stood

Brindis glanced her map, a yellowed thing her grandmother had taped to the driver’s side sun shade. Outside, northern Arreboles looked like it ever did,