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About Fajardo

So, I spot her—legs long, eyes sharp, leanin’ on a wall like she owns it. Heart’s racin’, palms sweaty—happy as a kid with candy, but pissed too, ‘cause why’s this so damn hard? Walk up, voice low, “Hey, darlin’, you workin’?” She smirks—*smirks!*—like she’s Simin judgin’ Nader in court. “Depends,” she says, all sassy. Surprised me, that sass—thought she’d be tired, broken maybe. Nope, she’s runnin’ this show.

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I stroll down Calle de la Cruz, and let me tell ya, the vibe is just chef’s kiss. Aibonito’s got this charm, man. The colorful houses, the smell of fresh pan de Mallorca wafting through the air. I’m practically drooling. But then, I see this old dude trying to cross the street. He’s moving slower than molasses. I’m like, “C’mon, man! We got places to be!”

Walter Mercado: There Was a Duality to Everything About Him (Published 2019)