Mis Marcadores Moviles -

Each one marked not a page in a book, but a moment in her life. She would slide them into the pages of whatever novel she was reading at the time. When she finished the book, she didn’t remove the bookmark. She left it there, a fossil trapped in amber.

That night, she bought a one-way ticket to Granada. mis marcadores moviles

Sofía stared at the photo for a long time. She had no memory of Mateo. No memory of Granada. No memory of a promise made under a bridge of sighs. Each one marked not a page in a

A photograph.

She turned the photo over. On the other side, in her own handwriting, she had written a single line: in her own handwriting