Imia & Bautista  [short story, 2009]

I was borne with a cap of black hair and hideous intentions. Groomed by a sheik in an ancient sun, burned by a defiant painter on a Belgian street, and torn from my finest limb by an angry Spaniard capable of torture and great love.

Impatience drives me to watch banal shows, play with reckless devices...not romantic enough to fade into a bleary-eyed drunk, to risk with abandon.

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I had a voice before anything, before my skeleton crumbled calcium dust. But this ancient man told stories, golden stories, and I smiled true for the first time.