Places Left Unfinished At The Time Of Creation - Plot & Excerpts
That’s the question Madrina asks Aunt Connie several times a week, as she awakens from sleeping or daydreaming in front of the television. “¿Ya se murieron todos los Santos?” Madrina Tomasa is my grandmother’s sister on my father’s side of the family. She is the eldest living sibling of her brood of Garcias. She lives with my aunt and uncle in a bright, meticulously arranged room in a house in San Antonio, Texas, where she keeps time by TV novelas like Amor Salvaje, variety shows, and televised-live Sunday-morning masses from San Fernando Cathedral. Like others of her generation, the present has lost its claim on her. Mostly she wanders, disembodied, through her ninety-five years, as if they were interlocking chambers of an enormous shell of memories. One moment she is a child, bathing in morning light in the mercado of Múzquiz, in the mountains of northern Mexico. Then it is 1921, and she is overturning a Model A Ford on San Antonio’s south side. She laughs now, remembering the tumbling tin milk jugs from the dairy truck she collided with, pouring out across the oily pavement on Nogalitos Street.
What do You think about Places Left Unfinished At The Time Of Creation?
