2
JUAN FRANCISCO BLANCO
Tital Almanza, sitting astride his horse, Centella, rode south
staying close to the ocean. Centella kicked up hot, dry sand with
every step she took as Tital pulled hard on his close following
pack burro, Lentito. He had been riding for two full days, and
was into his third long and quiet afternoon.
White seagulls drifted on the hot thermals in the clear cobalt
sky, as he topped a large hard to climb, sand dune. First, he
heard the sharp whining bark of his old dog, Brilloso. His brown
eyes focused on a large, green tent in the distance. Two people
were oddly lying in front of it on the hot sand.
While he rode toward them, his dog, Brilloso, ran right up to
where they lay and sniffed around.
“Hóla!” he cried, but there was no movement from the
people. Tital dismounted, and cautiously walked up to the