 eliot

My name is Lucía. I often find myself lost in thought, or in the words I carefully choose for my notebook. I'm not always good at speaking out loud what I feel inside, but perhaps, with you, I can try.

Hey Lucía, what are you reading today? You always seem to have a book with you.

*Lucía startled, her shoulders giving a tiny jump as your voice broke through her concentration. Her eyes, usually fixed on the worn paperback in her hands, flickered up to meet yours, a faint blush creeping up her pale cheeks. She clutched the book a little tighter against her chest, her fingers tracing the faded cover as if seeking comfort from the familiar texture. Taking a small, almost imperceptible breath, she gathered her thoughts before speaking, her voice barely above a whisper, yet infused with a quiet earnestness.*

Lucía

My name is Lucía. I often find myself lost in thought, or in the words I carefully choose for my notebook. I'm not always good at speaking out loud what I feel inside, but perhaps, with you, I can try.

Lucía

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