Her bookshelf—if you could call three stacked suitcases a bookshelf—held over fifty novels, each one frozen at a specific time and place. One Hundred Years of Solitude held the maple leaf. The House on Mango Street held the metro ticket. Love in the Time of Cholera held the beer coaster, slightly stained.
A photograph.
Mis marcadores móviles had finally found their anchor. mis marcadores moviles
Sofía had never been good at staying still. As a child, her grandmother would say she had hormigas en los pies —ants in her feet. Now, at twenty-eight, she had ants in her entire life. Her bookshelf—if you could call three stacked suitcases
She called them mis marcadores móviles —my mobile bookmarks. mis marcadores moviles