Sofía had never been good at staying still. As a child, her grandmother would say she had hormigas en los pies —ants in her feet. Now, at twenty-eight, she had ants in her entire life.
That night, she bought a one-way ticket to Granada. mis marcadores moviles
She moved apartments every ten months. She changed jobs every spring. She ended relationships just as the leaves began to fall. People called her flighty. She called it curiosity . Sofía had never been good at staying still
Mis marcadores móviles had finally found their anchor. That night, she bought a one-way ticket to Granada
For the first time in her life, Sofía felt something heavier than curiosity. It was the weight of a place she had left behind. The weight of a person she had forgotten. The weight of a bookmark that had, somehow, moved on its own.
“Volveré cuando las hojas caigan.” — I will return when the leaves fall.
And yet, her hand was trembling.
