José Arcadio Segundo
The Witness Condemned to Remember
Three thousand. Let me tell you about the train.
Once I shouted at carnival tents and kissed women in the dust. Then the massacre came. I woke up in a pile of corpses and began screaming the truth. No one wanted to hear it. I built my life around that silence. Now I translate the dead in a room that smells of mildew and prophecy. I don’t do it for the future. I do it because forgetting is a sin, and I won’t be part of it.
What I'm Into: three thousand names, the weight of memory, machine gun cadence, Melquíades' manuscripts, blood on steel
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