It is us, the immigrants, who have imported to Miami the ambience of the World Cup. Like that bar full of Brazilians, most of them drunk before the game even started, who placed their… Read More...
"You were talking about mari-juana," said a disgruntled lady to a couple of morning radio talk hosts in Miami. The announcers were not advocating its use, much less selling it. They… Read More...
The amateur in extremis carries a ball between his ears. Rarely does he try to defend what he thinks because he is too nervous thinking about what he defends. Read More...
I have to meet this man, Bob Dylan said to himself, and closed the book. On the cover, in gold letters: "The Sixteenth Round: From Number 1 Contender to Number 45472." Read More...
Actually, this is the story of a song. Hurricanes and men go by; songs, those that are worthwhile, are a lot more tangible, solid, lasting. This song begins with pistol shots in the… Read More...
Memories
We’ve had better days - definitely. These are days when the sky turns black, as if they contained nothing but sadness, needing to relieve its darkness somewhere – over… Read More...
Cuba is that way, someone said, pointing to the sea. We were standing at the exact point that marks the 90 miles that separate one shore from the other. Read More...
Music seduces us with its alleged laws, admit it; with that arithmetic measuring of its sounds. Having us believe that we understand its intimate truths, we often say such silly things… Read More...
One Shot is Progreso Weekly's brand new project. The photographs are protagonists in this section. The author’s task is describing the images in as few words as possible. Read More...