There was no clock in Yolanda's home. She lived by the light of the
sun and the moon. She estimated it would take the
stranger
at least a half hour to pass by her porch.
She shuffled to the open doorway and stepped into
the cool dimness. One large room served as kitchen, eating and work area; a small bedroom had been added on where Yolanda now slept alone. As she walked her thighs rubbed in wet squeaky sounds. A little chill went up through
her like a corkscrew with each step. She sighed, "Ah,
mi Carlos," her voice a rasp whisper.
