MARÍA SOLEDAD SÁNCHEZ

Stories can be lived and told in so many different ways…

WRITER

“I reach into my purse, rummage until I find the little pack of floss. I snap off a piece, open my mouth, look into the window: my grey hoodie blends into the color of the day, lanky strands of hair escape from underneath my brown beanie that sits like a dark mushroom draped flat against my face. My cheeks hollow like they’ve never been, the bags underneath my sunken eyes darker than ever, a look from them I don’t recognize that settles firmly into the steel of the clouds above.”

Excerpt from Too Done