Saira Rodriguez
Bio
I write to create a small piece of forever, but don't we all :)
Stories (2)
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The Light
Bolting through winding paths lined by Ceiba trees in the blistering heat of the Puerto Rico sun, my great grandfather was escaping his home at the age of nine. As he was fleeing, he recalled his memories of his time in the house and with his parents. His stomach churned and lurched as he stared at the food that he could not see in the dark basement that his parents had locked him in. His fingers pulled at the knot of the rope that constrained his hands behind his back. He sat there with his shoulders hunched and the corners of his lips turned down as they trembled. The tears rolled down the cheeks that begged to be dried by the touch and caress of another body.
By Saira Rodriguez4 years ago in Fiction
