Prologue (Rev. 2/18/14)

dry tree tiendaPROLOGUE

I was born in 1948 in a dusty little town across the US/Mexico border. It was a town with its own unique qualities, yet not uncommon to its era. The temperatures there could reach up to 118º on a hottest day, drying up everything and leaving only the sound of loud screaming cicadas and the whining of air coolers.

Years before, my father survived the Mexican Revolution, worked as a miner for almost ten years in a mining town of Arizona, USA, and traveled with my mother and the first-born sons across Mexican states to end up in this quaint, little town. At first, my father and older brothers built a shanty house on an empty lot with cardboard and salvaged wood. Later, they built a section of the house after making several trips on foot across town carrying the wood on their…




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