Pomegranate Molasses
Translated by Marvin Najarro He wakes up, looks at the clock, it is twenty-two past four in the morning. He hugs the sheets and stretches out on his bed; he gets up and boils water to make coffee. He brushes his teeth, and while the water is boiling, Cecilio looks out of the window; a pitch-black darkness on the other side, soon to give way to dawn, reminds him of the last days of summer. Soon it will be time to put away the summer clothes and begin to air the winter ones, which he will keep in bags, and…