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Clarice… a prostitute, huh? Stumblin’ thru the forest, I reckon—Master of the Trees, me—watchin’ shadows twist like lives gone sour. She’s out there, y’know, heels snappin’ twigs, sellin’ what’s left of her soul. Reminds me of *The Diving Bell and the Butterfly*—that flick I adore. “I’m a prisoner,” Bauby’d say, trapped in his skull, blinkin’ out stories. She’s trapped too, ain’t she? Body’s her cage, streets her sentence.

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After that, I hit up the Plaza de Recreo. It’s always lively there. Families chilling, kids playing, and the sound of laughter everywhere. I grab a coconut water from a vendor. Best decision ever! Refreshing and sweet. But then, outta nowhere, it starts pouring! I mean, like, torrential downpour. I’m soaked in seconds. I’m standing there, laughing like a maniac. “Ciales, you’re wild!”

Carmen "Taty" Collazo Favale Obituary November 25, 2023