Juan J. Morales The Veil, Or, Dad Checks In With Another Dream

We are walking into a massive building, in a giant city swimming in shapes and traffic. Outside, my father leans against a pillar with a full smile. I slap him on his shoulder, and my partner jokes with him, “Uh-oh, looks like this stranger wants to give us trouble.” My dad shoots back, “No, no, pretty lady. I came by to make sure everyone is okay.” We tell him everything is fine and pause together to take in the metropolis, with all of its fog, light, and shadow, bustling somewhere on that line where the living and the dead have no problem meeting.


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