It was just another dark, cold night. Ramona pulled the single chair out from under her splintered, second-hand table to sit and struck a match. The sulfurous smell filled the tiny apartment easily, but she didn’t mind. The smell was better than the streets. She gently pressed the flame to the wick of a lone candle. Using the same match, she lit a cigarette hanging from her lips before shaking out the flame. As shadows flickered across the peeling wallpaper, Ramona leaned down to her journal and began to write. 

“I was amazed to find that Gringolandia was just as dirty and smelly as Mexico. Qué sucio. I’ve only been here for a few days and I can feel the pangs of homesickness. Here you have to bribe, kill, or fuck someone just to get a bottle of tequila, and nothing like back home. The tequila these Anglos get their hands on is worse than burro piss. At least they have decent cigarettes. 

I find myself here following the now bloodied footsteps of my sisters before me. With a name like Broken Glass it's no surprise that our legacy is drenched in blood. 

Our first sister to step in Gringolandia made herself quite a place here, but let her emotions get in the way. Poor little Selena was too young, too inexperienced. These Anglos swallowed her up and spit her out. I'm not here to play politicas or to make friends. I'm here to have fun."

Ramona took a final drag of her cigarette before putting out the butt on the table top. She grabbed another and lit it with the withering candle. She took another deep drag, sucking in the smoke as if her life depended on it. Scraping her chair back from the table, she pulled her black satin pumps off one, then the other. Still with the cigarette hanging from her red lips, she undid her matching dress, letting it slip to the floor. She stood at her window, looking down on the grimy streets. As she stood in the candlelight, she glanced down to the streets. Gently taking the cigarette with two fingers, her tongue followed to wet her lips as Ramona considered what she would do next. She glanced back to the room at the bed. I think my next move will be to warm that bed tonight. She looked back out the window, letting the flicker of the candle light the silhouette of her naked body, and the glow of the cigarette lighting the smirk on her face.