Adobo Criollo Sergio Antonio Ortiz Rivera

A Time for Angels And God said, let there be angel. And the angel was made out of words. And man said, let there be angel made of inner words. Let the angel be in the likeness of my spirit. And God said, let every man have an angel in his likeness up in heaven and when he dies may they become one. And man said, if God does not create the angel, the imagination must create it, because if there’s a gap between God and man there can be no communication. There must be an intermediary spirit between sky and earth, between the invisible and the visible, between the spiritual and the material. God said, man arrived late for the time of gods and early for the time of beings, the angel came on time for both. Man said, the angel is the body joining gods and beings, it is the bridge that joins the stare to what is looked at. God said, so men and angels understand each other, angels on earth must speak the languages of men, and when men

Werewolf I am werewolf, I devour myself. At dawn I cut fresno trees where the moon settled. At noon I burn pastures where the deer run swift. At dusk I go to the beach to butcher turtles. I climb mountains to hunt the eagle. What God created in six days, I destroy in one. I am the werewolf, I devour myself.

My Aunt Hermione The story of my aunt Hermione has always bothered me, lost, according to my father, for a year in Yugoslavia. Missing, according to my uncle, on the ship bringing her from Smyrna by the Sea of No One. Survivors confuse the paths of the dead with their own, they no longer know what dream, what memory is from whom. Was she lost in a time without calendars, a sea without waves and a ship without walls? Didn’t she know that while she was alive, however far she went into the Nameless Country, she’d always return to the refugee ship which is the present, which is this planet? They found her one day, this is for sure, but if she found herself, nobody’s telling: one day she disappeared without leaving any other anecdotes.