Realism Coming Straight at Ya! aaduna Welcomes contributors Boyd and Carter!
|Dennis R. Boyd, Jr. (photo provided)|
Annie sipped her latte and lit a cigarette. “Why the hell am I wasting such a beautiful Saturday morning talking to someone I really don’t like, about something I really don’t want to talk about,” she wondered in silence. She exhaled a lungful of smoke into the waking city above and died another tiny, private death.
Across from her, Caroline slouched and chomped at her bagel like a cow chewing cud, gnashing and smacking on the same bite for her customary twenty-eight chews. It was the number recommended in some magazine article Caroline had read concerning the improvement of gastrointestinal functions. She had far less gas these days, and swore by the method.
“Michael’s an ass,” Caroline finally decided, informing Annie of her verdict in a disinterested sigh before slumping back into her wicker chair.
|B. Lynn Carter (photo provided)|
I never quite knew exactly how I came to my comprehension of Spanish. Probably hanging out with my Puerto Rican friends had a lot to do with it. Whatever the reason, it was something that made me feel unique. In a time when there were many fewer Spanish speaking people in the city, who looked to be of African descent, I was a “secret agent”. I was “down low” “under cover” with my secret ability to crack that code. How I loved stepping up to translate for some poor “communicationally challenged” person. In those moments I was a super hero. There were many such occasions when I felt my Spanish empowered me. But there is this one time in particular that really stands out in my mind.
Once again, I was on the subway. It was some years later and by then the subway had become my least favorite place to be. Gone was the music. My personal inner music had been replaced by big loud boom boxes that other people were “good” enough to play for all the rest of us, whether we wanted to hear it or not.