Jose Antonio Soto
Bio
Welcome! I'm Jose Soto, a writer born and raised in the border community of El Paso, Texas and Ciudad Juárez, México. I write stories, blogs, essays, and poetry that explores what it means to be human; nuances, complexities and all.
Stories (40)
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The Future Ablaze
There they were; staring at the vintage car ablaze. Jeremy, with a settling feeling of guilt and despair, deeply sobbing as he watched his father’s most prized possession in flames. Annabel, at Jeremy’s side, consulting him in her arms, herself feeling bewildered and in dazed. A night of congratulatory drinks at their friend’s home a few days before graduation had turned into a night of immense dread. Not only had they taken the 1978 Chevrolet Camaro without asking, they had, inebriated, tried to drive it back home before midnight, ramming into someone else’s home and changing their own lives forever.
By Jose Antonio Soto3 years ago in Fiction
Late-Night Classic Rock Drives
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. The chilled breeze that routinely accompanies them makes different melodic sounds as it cuts through the frosted glistening mountain tops, similar to the sound a saxophone makes as air flows through the wooden reed and through its body. The sounds don't necessarily lend to comprise an entire musical movement, but they are pleasant enough to make the purple clouds sway and twirl in the air.
By Jose Antonio Soto3 years ago in Fiction
El Paso: The Steps Toward Change. Top Story - August 2019.
My parent's house in El Paso, Texas, the house I grew up in, is a few blocks away from the border between the United States and Mexico. From the rooftop of the house, you can see Ciudad Juárez, one of the largest and most populous cities in Mexico. In particular, you can see El Monumento a la Mexicanidad, a now iconic monument dedicated to Mexican nationals, our identities, culture and history, often referred to as "La X." From many rooftops of the houses closest to the border and many other rooftops in the vicinity, the borderlines between the two countries are blurred. They are juxtaposed with one another, often merging as one. They are separated merely by rock, water and metal — and political agendas.
By Jose Antonio Soto3 years ago in Humans
My Favorite Color Is Red
My favorite color is red. Red like the lips of a carnivorous predator after successfully catching its prey. Red like the strawberries my mother had placed on a pearly white porcelain plate on top of the breakfast table earlier that morning, creating an impeccable contrast underneath the first morning sunshine rays. Red like the shade the white of my eyes had converted to after coming into the realization of what I had done.
By Jose Antonio Soto4 years ago in Horror
The Last Outfit My Father Wore
Three years ago, after my father's passing on February 26, 2019, I started gathering my father's clothing to either donate or take for safekeeping. Along with my mother, I spent time looking through his side of the closet, reminiscing of the times he wore specific articles of clothing and deciding whether the memory warranted cherishing through guardianship.
By Jose Antonio Soto4 years ago in Families
A Brief Emancipating Moment
If you've ever gone out for a run or a jog underneath a blazing sun wearing too many layers, then you know the feeling of liberation well. It comes once you extricate your body from the clenching of the sweat-drenched workout clothes and your anatomy can finally appreciate a zephyr caressing your moist skin. You've been longing for that exact moment all throughout the treacherous workout and when it arrives, it's unfettering.
By Jose Antonio Soto4 years ago in Pride
