As the unimaginable reality of the military coup unfolded I wrote incessantly in my diary.

My parents asked me to tear the pages from my journal and throw them into the fire, along with my books, magazines, documents, and records. The fire of my memories rose in the air, leaving no trace but a black ashen place within me.

A FIRE OF MEMORIES BY AURORA LOPEZ CANCINO 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 17

This post is for paying subscribers