芒果街上的小屋作者：「美」桑德拉·希斯内罗丝(30)

She listened to every book, every poem I read her. one day I read her one of my own. I came very close. I whispered it into the pillow:
I want to be
like the waves on the sea,
like the clouds in the wind,
but I"m me.
One day I"ll jump
out of my skin.
I"ll shake the sky
like a hundred violins.
That"s nice. That"s very good, she said in her tired voice. You just remember to keep writing, Esperanza. You must keep writing. It will keep you free, and I said yes, but at that time I didn"t know what she meant.
The day we played the game, we didn"t know she was going to die. We pretended with our heads thrown back, our arms limp and useless, dangling like the dead. We laughed the way she did. We talked the way she talked, the way blind people talk without moving their head. We imitated the way you had to lift her head a little so she could drink water, she sucked it up slow out of a green tin cup. The water was warm and tasted like metal. Lucy laughed. Rachel too. We took turns being her. We screamed in the weak voice of a parrot for Totchy to come and wash those dishes. It was easy.