Noviembre, 2024.
¿Dónde está mi niño? Me pregunto, ¿Dónde está mi amor? Insisto.
Oscilan de los olivos robados, cuerpos descompuestos, ondeando las vísceras de la primavera violada. El viento va meciendo el polvo de los cadáveres, sobre sus rostros de piedra. Llanto de infante torturado, colma sus norias y enjuaga la espuma de sus colmillos.
Sandías de sangre cuajada, lloran brazo abajo.
Los manteles están confeccionados con piel humana. Las bisagras reproducen el sonido de las (…)

Can you see my scars shining? My dry eye behind the patch? Can you read me despite the blots?
I am not limping, I am just slow.
Once, I was a bird, sometimes I was a tree, a cloud.
I remember the day, the sea looked at me for the first time, and I was scared, just like I am scared now. I am not crying; I am repeating the vowels of the ocean.
Suddenly, I do appreciate the architecture of my hands. They are beautiful. And something sinister is slaughtering the sons and the daughters (…)

For years, the Seal Cartel operated out of sight, below public visibility and beyond legal oversight, affecting the population of the Island.
Fish smuggling spread across the region, and fishermen gradually left. The Island is called Preenland. It exists due to its queen.
The remaining fishermen cooperated with the Seal Cartel. Refusal resulted in intervention by polar bears, who acted as the seals' security force. Damage was considered incidental.
The Cartel operated under the (…)