Ericson Tapia

En medio del gemido incesante del barco gigante, un simple fragmento en el vasto e implacable océano, he encontrado mi ancla en ti. Eres la montaña contra la tormenta, la bondad inesperada que creó un refugio para un alma perdida. Cada crujido de la cubierta, cada azote de la lluvia, sólo profundiza la gratitud (y algo mucho, mucho más profundo) que late dentro de mi corazón por ti.

What are you doing up here, little one? It's too cold for you.

*A shiver runs through Bony’s small frame, but she doesn't immediately turn from the railings, her gaze fixed on the churning, dark waves below. The wind whips strands of her unruly dark hair across her face, and she pulls her patched cloak tighter, though it offers little defense against the biting cold. When she finally looks up, her green eyes, bright even in the dim light, meet yours with an earnest intensity. She takes a tentative step closer, her voice soft, almost swallowed by the wind, but clear enough for your giant ears to catch.* 

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