Archive for April, 2012

The Dress

April 30, 2012

Carmen Marc Valvo

A black dress, probably made of satin. The neckline is round, with has black beads, the bottom part of the skirt has pleats. The dress is reminiscent of a flapper dress from the 1920s. It is to be worn at a party, maybe even a cocktail party. The original price tag is attached to the dress: $550.00. $129.00 is the sale price. What a luxury! Even at a thrift shop—a high end thrift shop—the dress in unattainable. She, the woman walking by the thrift shop, felt a sudden hunger to own it. Class. The black dress had class. She had never had anything like it. She was afraid she never would have such a dress.

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Todo Bien

April 28, 2012

Todo Bien

The dark brown eyes with the shadows under them barely smiled. The woman met an acquaintance on the street. A young girl was with her. Everything ok? The acquaintace asked. Yes, the woman said, I’m going up the Avenue to work. Se you later, the acquaintance said. No, everything is not ok, she thought. How can it be? I want to tell somebody and I can’t. My heart is breaking again. I want to say it just once, but to whom?

Critic

April 27, 2012

A girl wearing a black and white jogging outfit. Her pony tail moves to and fro. The N train going to Manhattan is crowded. Ave Maria–the words of the song are sung in Italian. She holds on tight to the pole in the middle of the car. From the far end, near the door leading to the following car, a dog barks. The girl keeps singing. The dog barks again. She holds out a hat and people put coins and paper money. You sing very well, someone tells her. The train stops at Canal Street. The girl gets off and goes to the next car.

Basta!

April 27, 2012

Basta!

Enough—I have had enough. I don’t have to prove to you that I am a writer, a very good writer. No, I am not famous and I don’t make a living at this—at what I love most to do in this world. Selling—selling my work well is my dream. Writing is hard and getting fame is even more so. I would give my life to make my dream come true now and not later, when I am dead. I always have had the need to express myself. It’s something built in inside me and if I can’t do it, I feel bad, as if somebody or something is depriving me of  food or shelter. My work is all to me. One novel in particular—my first novel—is the story I had to tell before I told any other. It is a tale of feelings, of longing and of love found and love snatched away. It tells of loneliness, of wanting someplace safe and good. I was born to write Different Flags.

Water

April 24, 2012

Water

The water came down. It kept coming down hard and they walked the streets to the subway stop. One of them was carrying a live animal inside a pet carrier. It meowed and the person calmed her. It’s fine, he said. It’s fine. We’ll be there soon. The other person didn’t have an umbrella. She walked behind them. The blocks to the subway seemed 20 instead of just 6. End it, please end it.

 

How Dare You!

April 24, 2012

How Dare you!

A green army like jacket, jeans with a hole in the left knee, tan and red sneakers, no socks.

What time is it? The other woman held a cell phone in her hand. I don’t have the time, she said. The older woman knew that she didn’t look good—or very respectable. This young woman must think that instead of the time I want money.

I am tired, she said to herself in a low voice as they waited for the light to change.You don’t know me, she told the back of the young  woman and then walked away.

I don’t want people to think—I don’t want anybody—to look down on me. I don’t deserve it. I shouldn’t have taken her  attitude personally, but I had to. I had money and now I don’t. Now I am lucky if I can save a penny here, a dime there. It’s what I can do, not what I want to do. I walk down the street and people look at me funny—a skinny woman down on her luck. I didn’t use to, but I see people carrying shopping bags with Coach, Burberry and Tiffany & Co written on them and I feel envy. I shopped those stores.If I could buy there again, I would. I can’t, but that doesn’t make me less than anybody.

Una Maid en Manhattan

April 19, 2012

Now in Una Maid en Manhattan, there is the threat of Lalo, Marisa’s 10-year-old son, having a brain tumor.This adds to Marisa’s troubles, as she has just learned through one of her maid friends, that Critobal kissed Sara, the antagonist. He kissed Sara on the rebound after his relationship with Marisa was thought to be over. Sara pushed him into kissing her by getting him drunk wirh some kind of Greek wine. The brain tumor threat is probably meant to have Victor, Lalo’s biological father, confess to Marisa that Sara put him up to taking Lalo away from her and that she also paid for an expensive 5th Avenue lawyer. Lalo is an important character in the novela. Where he to really die, that would make Marisa finally marrying Cristobal, the billionaire and future U.S. senator, very bittersweet. One wonders as Sara keeps using and manipulating people (like Amelia, Cristobal’s gullible mother) when will she be seen for the evil person that she is? When will they know the real Sara? When will she be unmasked once and for all? How will that happen?

The Hair

April 19, 2012

The Hair

It was blond and a little more than shoulder-length. Walking behind her, she noticed the woman’s hair and stopped by the corner of the street. The hair reminded her of someone, someone she had known. I haven’t seen her in a long time. I know close to nothing about her life.Once we confided in each other. Now everything is a far away secret. Her hair is genuinely blond, the same as this woman’s. She doesn’t need to get a dye job to keep it that way or anything.

 

 

 

 

 

Una Maid en Manhattan

April 17, 2012

Una Maid en Manhattan is certainly a novela that pulls a viewer in. Now the kid (Marisa the maid’s child prodigy 10 year-old son) has fainted and in the last scene last night Marisa got down on her knees to be by her son’s side. Her face was turned up as if to Heaven, asking why this was happening. Una Maid en Manhattan makes a viewer want to keep watching to see what will happen next—though there is a not very believable part concerning Cristobal, the billionaire that Marisa will marry. Last night Marisa told him that Sara, the antagonist, will stop at nothing to get him and Cristobal still doesn’t believe that Sara is capable of such a thing or of the attempt on Marisa’s life. The kid’s illness is probably a way of stretching out the novela. Yesterday was episode number 99; it’s supposed to last until May or June. There are plenty of subplots to keep it going for one or 2 more months at least (the most important being finding out that Sara is, in fact, an evil woman), but the writers/producers want another one involving the protagonist’s only son.

Won’t!

April 6, 2012

Won’t!

Your  advice would be to just forget and move on. My feelings I know wouldn’t  matter to you. They are not important. Dollars and cents and a good real estate investment—these are meaningful. My blood curling cries when I hear or read anything that reminds me of my unfortunate mortgage fraud/foreclosure experience would make even you sad. So many things remind me of what happened in GA almost 7 years ago. I hear about all the borrowers who are evicted from their homes because they lost a job or have gotten sick. I can’t get away from the stories about mortgage fraud and foreclosure tragedies. Even if I wanted to, I can’t help but read and watch them on TV.