Rough revised beginning of my book? Maybe? Perhaps?
Nogales Customs: MARIPOSA STATION Crossing I had never done this before, unwrapping things and placing them out for the custom's agent to look over and inspect. This was the eighth hour of covering my hands with the ink of Mexican newsprint as I unwrapped cobalt blue drinking glasses and Talavera vases and clay angels. "It sure is chilly here," I complained as I rubbed my blackened hands together, the fingers like popsicles just about to melt. "Well, it could be July and we could be cooking like... Sign in to see full entry.