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Solito Quotes

Solito by Javier Zamora

Solito Quotes
"Trip this, trip that. Trip trip trip. I can feel the trip in the soles of my feet. I see it in my dreams."
"Whenever a plate breaks, whenever I find an eyelash, whenever I see a shooting star, I wish to be in that bed with both of them in La USA, eating orange sherbet ice cream."
"The bad dreams, those you have to tell first thing in the morning so they don’t stay in your mind."
"I have to pretend once she gets off work at six p.m. But I do, I pretend, I walk back at Abuelita’s pace, holding her hand."
"Everyone in town tells me stories about him, but I haven’t really asked him anything because I get shy when I hear his voice."
"We only hear after the fact. They’re here, and then they’re not. No one ever lets it slip that they’re leaving."
"It’s because our parents are not here and we’re not there that Mays and Junes are sad."
"Mom told me, 'Your mom drank water from troughs, but she was fine,' now applying mascara, curling her eyelashes."
"I want to make a snowball like in the movies. Mom did this in 1995, when I was five."
"Don’t worry, everything is gonna be okay, you’ll see them soon," they said, and picked me up, my legs dangling.
"I’m almost ten. Almost in fifth grade. It’s mid-March, Mother’s Day is just around the corner."
"Coffee grows at high elevations. ¿Did you know that?"
"I didn’t know we still had my real passport from the time I applied with Mali to get a visa."
"It’s been a long day. I’m tired. I’m nervous but excited to know what bed I’m going to sleep in."
"Please take care of him. He’s little, and won’t have family. You are his family."
"Everyone carries a dark backpack with them and nothing else."
"I wish I had told them my name, like Carla did."
"The sun is mostly out, so he can see his square jaw in the handheld mirror he brought with him."
"Remember: trust Marcelo. He’s from our town, he knows us, listen to him."
"Everyone gets off their bicitaxis, and their rides turn around and leave."
"Water splashes against Marcelo’s shins. The waves on the sand sound like the ocean is whispering to us, Shhhhh."
"We’re not animals," she says under her breath.
"We’re poor, but that doesn’t mean we live in filth."
"We’re mojados, but we’re clean," she repeats.
"I’ve never washed clothes. I stare at her face."
"I didn’t know there were Mexicans in La USA."
"We’re a 'family of three' because we are a family of three."
"The air doesn’t smell like wet earth like the song says."
"It smells of garbage, smoke, cars, too many people walking around, dog shit—it smells like San Salvador."
"The path is spiny and slippery like a nopal, but you’ll make it."
"I’m not that kind of tired. My body aches, but my mind is awake awake awake."
"The desert clings to us. Dirt. Cactus. Sweat. Brush. Rocks. Blood. Spilled tuna juice. Piss. All of it on our skin."
"We’re in the furnace again. The asphalt feels sticky, the heat crawls up our shoes."
"The paletero keeps ringing his bell. Other vendors walk by selling chips. I’m hungry."
"Pigeons and smaller birds have stopped flying, it’s so hot."
"We fan ourselves with Carla’s clothes from her backpack. I think they’re clean, but they smell like the desert, like dust and more dust."
"We don’t take our eyes off the turnstile, the barbwire roof."
"So many gringos with loose clothing, wrinkles, and carts walk back and forth."
"The moon was there, full, but she didn’t do anything."
"We wait in line to get into the albergue without saying hi to anyone."
"My tongue feels dry. My throat has ants inside it."
"We’re bushes turning into people like Transformers."
"We’re almost out of water. One or two sips for each of us left."
"The Milky Way. The cactuses have disappeared in the dark, but I know they’re there."
"One had so many arms it looked like a city skyline."
"Todo va' estar bien," Patricia and Chino whisper to Carla and me.
"We try and try until we make it, doesn't matter how many times."
"Gracias a Dios," everyone says, almost in unison.
"It's why it stinks," he pinches his nostrils together.
"We're looking for a road, tall grasses, and trash."
"La tercera es la vencida," Patricia and Chino say.