Vivir Sin: Miedo

The moth was gone.

She opened it.

She took one step. Then another.

“You’ll die out there,” she whispered.

She bought a mango from a cart, ate it standing up, juice running down her wrist. She smiled at a child who was not afraid of anything yet. She crossed the street without counting the cars. vivir sin miedo

The moth did not answer. It only kept hitting the glass.

But one night, a moth flew in through a crack in the window frame. The moth was gone

That night, Elena dreamed of water. Not the drowning kind—the kind you float on, face-up, trusting the salt to hold you. When she woke, her hand was already reaching for the door handle.