Free The Pulse between Dimensions and the Desert by Rios de la Luz

smiles. He reciprocates. Neri fans herself and steps away from the door so she can’t hear the stream of pee from the duck bathroom. The young man comes out and tells Neri that he likes her curly hair. Neri blushes so she quickly puts her face mask back on and echoes a thank you.
    Mya carries the vacuum in one arm and rose scented carpet powder in the other. She knocks on the door and goes into a room with posters of pretty women and angry looking men in all black clothing, two guitars on the ground, a drum set and a giant entertainment center. Mya plugs in the vacuum and aligns the strokes of the suction into perfect straight lines. She hums underneath the bustle of the vacuum. She takes two steps back and two steps forward. She moves her hips in figure eights. She dances alone and laughs. She thinks about the moments when she danced close to strangers at night clubs and then never saw them again. Mya continues to dance and stumbles over the cord. Her body shifts and she takes the vacuum down with her. The TV clicks off. A young guero walks in and runs toward the unplugged chord. Mya grabs her left hip. She picks herself up and looks at the boy. She waves her hands and says sorry, so sorry. His face is red and he tells her to get the fuck out. Before she can get to the outlet, he pulls the vacuum chord out and throws the rose powder out of the room. His lips are pursed as he pushes the vacuum. Get out. Get out. Get out. He says it three times as if he were counting down. Mya plugs the vacuum in and clears up his spill then heads to the rest of her assigned rooms to finish cleaning in time.
    In the van, Mya says nothing. Neri grabs her bun and tells Mya she looks lovely when she’s angry. You look like a nurturer. Mya pulls away. Mya tells the women: in my past life, I was a messenger dove. A veiled woman, perhaps a bruja, whispered mensajes to me every morning. Todos los días, a scroll manifested itself in my nest for me to deliver. I delivered them to gente in front of la Iglesia de San Andrés Xecul. I transported the scrolls to locals, tourists, abuelas, and children. The veiled woman whispered to me about lineage and solitude. Every morning, I heard the same message and every morning, I gave a scroll to someone new. I did this for years and years until one afternoon, I tried to fly home and a plastic bag caught me in mid-air. I fell to the ground and slid on the gravel at the mercy of the gusty winds. I slid and I slid until I woke up in this body.
    When the van stops in front of the office, las mujeres get out and Neri hugs Mya. She takes Mya to a rose garden in Mariposa Park. Neri lets her hair down and tells Mya: when I was six or seven, I thought eating flower petals could turn me into a flower. I picked flower petals and ate them until all I could do was burp up perfume and dream about floral infestations taking over my intestines. She picks petals off of a pink rose and places them on her tongue. She picks more and more and chews them up and sticks her tongue out at Mya. Is it working? Mya shakes her head. It will work eventually.

 
     
    SWEET GUM

    It snowed the night you told me we should separate. I went outside with no shoes and no coat. I cried as frost collected on the cars and in my hair. We met four summers back. Four years was nothing. That’s what my older friends used to say. I wanted to crawl back into bed with you. The urge to say sorry was overwhelming even if I wasn’t sure what to be sorry for. I went back into the apartment and you sat in silence. I said nothing. You said nothing. It went on for days in between my bursts of crying which I couldn’t help. I had to stay with you for a month until I could find a place of my own. Anytime you left the apartment, I called you and called you and you never answered. I knew you were with other women. I knew, but it wasn’t anything I could stop. It wasn’t my place. I found a small house with cheap rent and I painted it purple. I used neon pieces