Mis Marcadores Moviles Today

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.

Mis marcadores móviles had finally found their anchor. mis marcadores moviles

Not the flat, tasseled kind you buy in a gift shop. Sofía’s bookmarks were objects . A dried maple leaf from a park in Boston. A torn metro ticket from Mexico City. A beer coaster from a bar in Seville where a boy with green eyes had taught her the difference between te quiero and te amo . A strip of washi tape from a Kyoto stationery store. A feather from a pigeon in Paris that had landed on her shoulder as she read L’Étranger . Sofía had never been good at staying still

That night, she bought a one-way ticket to Granada. Mis marcadores móviles had finally found their anchor

And yet, her hand was trembling.

She checked the date on her phone. October 12th. The leaves were falling right now.