Can the bad ones become good ones, momma? Ay my darling, it’s easier to cook a sancocho without broth nor yuccas!
The girl felt the tears overflow ‒sliding softly‒ as if caressing her hot, flushed face‒,
while in her mind a torrential cascade of images followed one after another, in a fluid and reeling sequence, threatening to drown her in the tow of its furious current.
The life-experiences shared with her endearing comrades; they had grown up life if they were sisters,
Navagating Lago Titicaca, Cobacabana, Bolivia
the three together, sailing the seas of their infancy, to continue after, navigating the blue oceans of adolescence.