Emilia typed in her password and checked her inbox. A review by the Secretariat de Gobernación of drug cartel activities across Mexico. A report of a robbery in Acapulco’s poorest barrio neighborhood that would probably never be investigated. Notice of a reward for a child kidnapped in Ixtapa who was almost certainly dead by now.
Her phone rang. It was the desk sergeant saying that a Señor Rooker wished to see her. Emilia avoided Rico’s eye as she said, yes, the sergeant could let el señor pass into the detectives’ area.
A minute later Rucker was standing by her desk, sweat beaded on his forehead. The starched collar of his shirt was damp.
“There’s a head,” he said breathlessly. “Someone’s head in a bucket on the hood of my car.
Tag: mystery mexico crime-fiction mexico-drug-war
It had grown darker now; it was full night already, with the swiftness of the mountainous latitudes. The square of sky over the patio was soft and dark as indigo velour, with magnificent stars like many-legged silver spiders festooned on its underside. Below them the white roses gleamed phosphorescently in the starlight, with a magnesium-like glow. There was a tiny splash from the depths of the well as a pebble or grain of dislodged earth fell in. ("The Moon Of Montezuma")
Cornell WoolrichA raging, glowering full moon had come up, was peering down over the side of the sky well above the patio.
That was the last thing she saw as she leaned for a moment, inert with fatigue, against the doorway of the room in which her child lay. Then she dragged herself in to topple headlong upon the bed and, already fast asleep, to circle her child with one protective arm, moving as if of its own instinct.
Not the meek, the pallid, gentle moon of home. This was the savage moon that had shone down on Montezuma and Cuauhtemoc, and came back looking for them now. The primitive moon that had once looked down on terraced heathen cities and human sacrifices. The moon of Anahuac. ("The Moon Of Montezuma")
Now the moon of the Aztecs is at the zenith, and all the world lies still. Full and white, the white of bones, the white of a skull; blistering the center of the sky well with its throbbing, not touching it on any side. Now the patio is a piebald place of black and white, burning in the downward-teeming light. Not a leaf moves, not a petal falls, in this fierce amalgam. ("The Moon Of Montezuma")
Cornell WoolrichMéxico es un país de fatalidades dinámicas... un país con demasiadas insatisfacciones sepultadas en el tiempo, largos siglos de pobreza, de injusticia, de sueños soterrados.
Carlos FuentesDont' let it end like this, tell them I said something.
Pancho VillaTag: mexico revolutionary
¿Explicarlo? No -se dijo- , creerlo, nada más. México no se explica; en México se cree, con furia, con pasión, con desaliento.
Carlos FuentesTag: mexico
Allí donde no le entiendas, en los espacios blancos, en los huecos, pon: Te quiero.
Elena PoniatowskaTag: mexico elena-poniatowska lirica
Me fascina imaginar que veinte millones de personas están viviendo, muriendo, bebiendo, comiendo, bailando, conduciendo, copulando, asesinando, gritando o llorando en ese preciso instante en esa malla infinita de bombillas bajo mis pies.
Paco NadalTag: mexico
All I want is some man to take delight in me. 5:30? 6:30 A.M. as usual, no cigs. Better a maudlin drunk than a sterile one. My pimples are more like small boils; I have the plague. My lip is split. My tits are swollen and I can't ever sleep. I now breathe with my heart, which skips rope. Back to sex?
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