Judith Ramos collects, at the top of the concrete plates, her brother’s chain. She still retains, between the dust and the acidic smell that spreads the breeze, a slight perfume that she identifies as her own. She says that she never took it off, while keeping it next to the morral that she gave her and the books that she recovered from the rubble in a bag. Sitting on what might be the roof of the apartment, she recalls Israel’s routine. She was…
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Judith Ramos collects, at the top of the concrete plates, her brother’s chain. She still retains, between the dust and the acidic smell that spreads the breeze, a slight perfume that she identifies as her own. She says that she never took it off, while keeping it next to the morral that she gave her and the books that she recovered from the rubble in a bag. Sitting on what might be the roof of the apartment, she recalls Israel’s routine. She was…