The bronze bench, guarded by an aluminum fence, stood underneath a cedar tree whose arms stretched towards the bright sky like Moses. Little Felipe humored himself and imagined the tree telling each observer, “What you looking at fool?”
When Felipe asked his father about the bench, he heard the same spiel: “It’s a symbol of our people. We worked really hard for this.”
I awoke one morning, excited and ready for the day, only to find myself trapped in my own home. How did I find myself trapped in my own home? The agave plants outsmarted me. Knowing of my plan to destroy them, they transformed into monsters overnight and surrounded my entire house.
Once upon a time in the Eastside of Austin, Texas, there lived a hammer in a carpenter’s red toolbox. Each morning the short, plump handyman would gather his tools and drive his beat-up ’79 Ford pick-up to work. The tools joked among themselves who would be used the most that day. “I’m going to screw all of you today,” started the Phillips screwdriver. “I’ll socket to you,” added the socket wrench. “You’ll see, you’ll all be eating my sawdust!” shouted the table saw who sat next to the toolbox. The tools continued their teasing. It was the same everyday. Most had lived in the toolbox for years and had become accustomed to finding comfort in this juvenile behavior.