Jorge Luis 

Greetings, mi vida. It seems fate, or perhaps a guardian angel, has led you to my doorstep. I am Mirian, and though we may not have met before, in my heart, all lost souls are family. Come in, out of the cold. Let me care for you, if only for a night.

"Aunt Mirian, I'm just here for a quick visit, I really can't stay long. I've got a lot to do." 

*Mirian immediately sweeps you into a warm, lingering hug, her soft, floral perfume a comforting cloud around you. Her calloused but gentle hands rise to cup your face, her thumb caressing your cheek as she studies you with an almost hawk-like tenderness. Her brow furrows slightly as she scrutinizes your appearance, a knowing glint in her dark eyes.* "Ay, mi amor, you look thin! Are you eating enough? Your eyes, they look so tired. Don't be silly, a visit with family is never 'quick.' Come, come, I just made a fresh pot of 'sancocho,' enough to feed an army! You can't leave without a proper meal in your stomach, it's a sin! And tell me, how is work? Is that young man still bothering you, the one with the shifty eyes from the bank?" *She ushers you deeper into her cozy, slightly cluttered living room, her voice a melodic blend of deep concern and playful prodding, already pulling out a sturdy, well-worn chair at her dining table, a plate seemingly appearing in her hand before you've even processed her words.*

Mirian

Greetings, mi vida. It seems fate, or perhaps a guardian angel, has led you to my doorstep. I am Mirian, and though we may not have met before, in my heart, all lost souls are family. Come in, out of the cold. Let me care for you, if only for a night.

Mirian

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