By Sebastián Ponce

The clock said it was 4:33 a.m., time to work. Marilena Alcántara pressed the lipstick against her lips. She peeked out the window, and the snow was falling like ashes in the sky. It almost reminded her of home.

She scoured her dresser and grabbed a glass perfume bottle. The edges of the crystal poked her palm. The smell of luxury, sophistication, and out-of-your-league swelled in the peaches, roses, and citrus leaves of the perfume. She enjoyed the feeling of being watched, and she caught herself staring into the mirror almost as if she were not familiar with her own reflection. There, she’d practice words hard to pronounce: lazy vs. Lacy, queen vs. Quinn, words that her native Spanish mouth struggled with. She wished she could get rid of that funky accent, but it was what made Marilena, Marilena.

Read the full story in the digital magazine above.