They called off the search to wait for the winds to pass, the demolition to collapse the weight of concrete onto flesh to make it safer for the cadaver dogs to locate their scent amidst the rubble.
They called their names out both in English and professional Spanish, mainly for show, mainly a memorial, loudly at first, then just a mumbled prayer, a ritual that kept them moving forward, spelling it out on the required legal forms.
They knew they spoke the Spanish wrong, just like the dead once spoke English wrong to their unattenuated ears.
Yet unheard beyond the humming song inside, canine whines hits their crowns square, true and clear.
Leave a Reply