10
Sleeping Beauty (Tchaikovsky)
Violet (thoughts)
September 15, early morning hours
Guadalupe talks to me. One more secret every day until she has no more to say.
When someone gets close to me, I know I’ll be the fragrant leaf one picks up on a trail, confides to it their hope and grief, and then throws it back to Mother Nature, crushed and scentless. It doesn’t bother me. It gives me the advantage to not open myself up. Or to not lie. However, if Lupe tells me what she never said to anyone about her life and Javier’s, it may be that she doesn’t expect to see me on another cruise after this one.
I wonder why.
The whole staff knows that Lupe is Javier’s girl but not his thing. “I was close to him before…” she said to me one morning with her usual unexpressive eyes. They lit up thoug
