The Wormlips Scrapbook

I descend the cold tile stairway in my nightgown, blinking myself awake. I cross the cold tile floor, wrapping my shawl more tightly around me. I walk toward the… —“VENGAAAAA.” I hear the ear-splitting cry of the beady-eyed crow, Reyna, the housekeeper. It is too early to be dealing with her impenetrable Spanish and her [...]

The housekeeper has it in for me. She complains about which cup I use for what (it’s the small, orange, plastic one for brushing teeth). She won’t let me use purified water for tea or tooth-brushing (so I sneak downstairs at night and get it when she’s asleep). And the other day she told Magdalena [...]

I hate poodles. I’ve never liked them. I know that’s doggist of me, but it’s true. And now I dislike them more than ever. Here’s why: I know from having spent time in places without much infrastructure that you always look down when you’re walking. Otherwise you’re liable to fall into a hole or trip [...]