Gabriel Lucatero

The woman who walked toward Cecilia's pickup looked serious and quiet. There was something about her brown, deep eyes, olive skin, and even her confident gait. Her dress was a…

My first meal on American soil was scrambled eggs with a drizzle of ketchup, buttered white toast, and black coffee. Cecilia was there, eating with me, and our conversation featured the…

When I landed on American soil, the noise I made was akin to that of a sack of potatoes. I didn't break any bones, although I was ready to face…

Wednesday, November 24, 2004, is the day when I was born for the second time. It was the day I crossed the border and entered the United States of America.…

8:07 p.m. A knock on the door woke me up. I was afraid to open the door, even though I knew someone was coming to pick me up. A second…

If there had been a way to taste the air I breathed, I would have claimed it tasted different in Hermosillo, Sonora. It did feel different, no doubt. It was…