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Sophie Garcia
Stories (3/0)
Who?
It's closing time at Powell's Pet Shop. The lights go out as the heating lamps turn on with their red glow. The kittens are having their nightly milk, the chicklets are nesting in their den, and the fishes are sleeping as usual. All is quiet. All except for the nocturnals. The rodents, the reptiles, and arachnids are still stirring and spinning their webs. And one lonely barn owl named Barney is rattling his cage. "Oh great. Another night in here. Who out there will love me? Who out there will be with me through the endless night? Every night I count who's been adopted and who is still here. The cats and dogs are never here for more than a week. But night after night I'm left in this cage. Sometimes I look out at street pigeons and dream of what it feels like to soar so freely. Other times I dream of my mother. I never met her but I wonder if she was a free bird, hunting and gliding through the moonlit sky, or like me - trapped". The old owl coos a sad song. Lemmy, a rat and friend to Barney, calls out from a cage across the aisle "Cheer up, there's someone out there for all of us. Even an old bird like you.” Barney leans against the bars of his cage and says, "I want to believe you, I do. I just hope that someone comes and takes me home with them tomorrow." Lemmy says back "So do I. Then I won't have to hear you every night."
By Sophie Garcia2 years ago in Fiction
YOUR QUEER HUB DISPLACES LGBTQ LOCALS
I was slow to accept the psychic death happening to the only place I’ve ever called home - the city of San Francisco. The ghost of what it used to be haunting the hollow, empty buildings awaiting renovation or summer guests. Now in another state, and from a distance - I can’t look away - no matter how heartbreaking.
By Sophie Garcia3 years ago in Pride
Dia De Los Muertos
“This is your culture, you shouldn't have to do this.” my friend said as we walked down 24th street, scoping the pavement for the bright orange of marigold. I nodded as we held hands on our way through a dizzying myriad of people on a closed-off street in the Mission — what is now officially recognized by San Francisco as the Latino Cultural District. We walked long past the floral vendors who sadly informed us they had sold out, we were now surrounded by the murals, businesses, and old trees that are sources of strength for me and other Latinx & Indigenous people. We ran into friends and neighbors at a park. We sat on grass and enjoyed processions, drum and danza circles, holding candles and engulfed in the sweet scent of copal.
By Sophie Garcia3 years ago in Pride