Cuento de Mi Id

“The November Country”

by Ramón Bradamante

It was the November Country...

That country where prosperity was always around the corner... The country where the bottoms were always foggy and the promises always broken; where votes go quickly and taxes linger, and debts stay. That country composed in the main of smoky rooms, grassy knolls, no-tell motels, credibility gaps and future monuments. That country where people are election people, forever chasing dreams and the occasional chad. Where people perpetually pay for the future while living in the past and hoping for the present -- if not a present.