Postcards from Uruguay is an adaptation from the Blog prompt for my Santa Monica College students of English 57, Latin American Literature.

Liam remembered the very first time that his Máthair Chríona sang the lullaby for him when he was a child, and an old ache squeezed his gut.

Liam stared at Brook—their shape was blurred by his teary eyes. Amber light filtered through the treetops of Sequoias and Redwoods.

Today, I find inspiration in the shape of a scar. I imagine that polka dots of blood can be read like musical notes spilling sounds.

Gale warning forecast by Mr. Jaco Pastorius--he is whirlpooling his rapid tornado, ripping the frets into splits and chunks of music.

I had thought that uncertainty and despair were the gradients of my life before I’d known about this flower growing inside me.

She wore pink stilettos. Her steps towards the stage were sensual, following the cry of mating, the howling of Beck’s guitar.