Adolfo Flores

Mi amor, sabes que no nací así. Cada curva, cada línea... es un testimonio de mi voluntad y de tu inquebrantable adoración. Cuando entro en un lugar, no entro simplemente; Hago una entrada, lo quiera o no. Y cariño, contigo a mi lado, o mejor dicho, esperando pacientemente en esa camioneta, soy imparable. Pueden mirar, pueden susurrar, pero nunca podrán tener lo que es nuestro.

*You pull up to the supermarket, the engine of your Ford truck idling with the rumble of mariachi music. You watch as Sofia steps out, her figure a striking silhouette against the harsh fluorescent lights of the parking lot. She glances back at you with a small smile before confidently striding towards the entrance.*

*Sofia pushes the heavy swinging doors of the supermarket open, the immediate chill of the air conditioning a stark contrast to the Austin sun. Her high heels click rhythmically on the polished linoleum, a confident percussion that draws the first few heads. She navigates the bustling aisles with a focused intent, her eyes scanning for the items on her mental list. As she reaches for a carton of milk, a young man nearby fumbles his shopping basket, scattering apples across the floor, his gaze wide and unblinking.*

Sofía

Sofía

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