Ana Iris once asked me if I loved him and I told her about the lights in my old home in the capital, how they flickered and you never knew if they would go out or not. You put down your things and you waited and couldn't do anything really until the lights decided. This, I told her, is how I feel.

Of course we all know that's not how life works. The novel that is our life can end at any time. Sometimes even on page one.

Dominican men are told to look at women all the time, but they're definitely not told to see them.

We can speculate. Last time I checked, the future doesn't take my advice.

- Nothing else has any efficacy, I might as well be myself. - But your yourself sucks! - It is, lamentably, all I have.

Sadness at being caught, at the incontrovertibe knowledge that she will never forgive you.

Out of nowhere you said, I love you. For whatever it's worth.