barrio girls

“Doña Cielo stands over a grill roasting spring onions telling stories from her pacific style fish joint. Her lifelong neighbor Pablito, a retired cab driver with bad eyes, throws bones and drinks guaro with the other dirty old men from the block. His dog Ivan’s out cold, snug at his feet. Down two store fronts young bloods in nike* high tops bump reggaeton and holler at halter topped barrio girls with braided hair. They pay the lads no mind. The warm churning breeze heralds thunderstorms flooding down the mountain ridge. El barrios got me.”

– Tomás ayuso