Saturday, March 21, 2015


Even the warmest Cuban dreams turn to nightmares in Brooklyn


A sad and small monologue.

Jesus/Jose/ Joe is not clear at all about his objectives in life. He is constantly dreaming as if life was impossible for him.

He is dreaming in Cuba when he wants to marry and have twelve children. The first opportunity to leave the island comes and he leaves alone without his future wife.

He is dreaming a life of freedom and success in the USA and only goes from one dead end to another blind alley. No jobs because no education since he did not finish it in Cuba. No education in the USA because no money to pay for it and to live on. Social services are chains on the legs. And he has to accept to be a hustler to make money to survive. He is black and has plenty of stuff to sell as for that. Luckily he sticks to no drug and no stealing.

He finally dreams to go back to Florida where a friend who arrived with him has made it properly and could give him a job. But the night before leaving he is waiting for a bus in Brooklyn to go home when a white man approaches him. For some hustling of course with a promise of money. And it ends badly. That’s what happens when you have a gun and shouldn’t.

And there is our dear surprise. Jesus/Jose/Joe is in prison, the convicted murderer of a well-known and appreciated priest, bound to die after his death row crossing of the Rubicon. A Rubicon of death. Not to Rome and the Empire but down to six feet under in a cheap casket, if any.

Dreams lead to nightmares when you don’t have the stamina to work them out in real life.


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