Blackbirdan online journal of literature and the artsSpring 2016  Vol. 15 No. 1
an online journal of literature and the arts
 print preview

I Walked Away with This Object and It’s Possible She Put a Spell on Me
El Alto, Bolivia

Can you track me down this woman? Her pot of melted tin. Our seats were cinder blocks. She gave me a blessing. She told me a story. I paid six pesos to have my fortune read.

I dipped a spoon into the pot, withdrew, and held it into the air, but waited too long: the metal solidified and became part of the spoon. My fortune was a mishap; a stick of heavy cotton candy.

She stuck a miniature castle in my hand, blew spittle into my eyes, put a metallic frog onto my feet, connected it to her waist by a chain, made me kiss a metal cross, offered a blessing, threw yellow liquids into the air, wrapped a golden cow in fake 100 dollar bills, wrapped the money into leather, stroked my body to find the wallet.  

return to top