Sin Fronteras Spring 2018 Sin Fronteras 2018 | Page 61

He thought he might like that security. To have his entire life planned out.
To always have someone to come home to. It was better than just the certainty
of death. It was an easy life. It was a life that belonged to others more than it
belonged to you. Maybe he would hate it. Saúl wondered if they both had
someone pulling on their life strings like they were marionettes. If they were
both pushed through life by other people.
Someone called the girl and she went inside, the ghost of her song and
braids still rippling through Saúl’s brain. He got up too. It was time to keep going.
He looked back, and saw the haze of the refineries peeking from behind
the rooftops. The pipes were illuminated by the yellow glare of lights, by the
fire spat out into the sky. The smog made the sky right above them look gray.
He couldn’t see the underground pipes, but he imagined how they pumped
gasoline outside, like if they were veins and the refinery was a body and its
blood was murky and flammable. That blood had been mixed with that of too
many people. He knew that one day, his would be added, too. He wasn’t the
kind of person to get a happy ending. But that didn’t stop him. He turned his
head again. He kept running.
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