Aug 8, 2013

Solidad - p2

Sharing a bit of my extra scenes from my WIP, Strella PAX, this month. Also looking for beta input, if this interests anyone.


Texas was too much like Mexico, Solidad decided. The same music, the same people, and the same problems, though smaller.

“Not Texas,” she told Raul and Camilo.  Raul just rolled his eyes, but Camilo nodded.

They took a Grayhound east to Georgia, front row seats, and listened with the driver to the small radio he had. His bus, his rules, and they spent the hours listening to NPR.  Story after story, many done by professors at numerous universities.  They all sounded so smart, and Solidad found herself envious of them all.  Sure, she had a lot of cash. But she needed knowledge to figure out how to get their mind reader safe haven off the ground.  At this point, none of them had any idea how to start.

“I need to go to school.” She blurted out and her friends turned to look at her.

“What for?” Raul asked. “We don't need to get a job.”

But Camilo understood. He simply nodded and handed over a newspaper he had bought before they boarded the bus.  There was an article on Chicago, on how just as it seemed to have started to slide, it had been saved by the many universities in town.  The research there, particularly in psychology, was turning the city into a learning hub filled with numerous schools, both big and small, of all levels. Chicago was the learning capital of America.

“Let's go here.” She insisted, showing the article to Raul.

“Okay chica, whatever you want.”


Chicago and Mexico City were both thrumming with people, but so many residents of the Windy City looked happy compared to the grim looks she was used to seeing on her fellow Mexicans.

Camilo watched a train rattle by overhead, Raul whistled at a young girl walking by who flicked him off.

Even in the twenty minutes they had been walking through the city, Solidad had spotted five schools offering degrees. How in the world was she supposed to pick one? She didn't even know what she should study yet.

Camilo placed a hand on her shoulder and pointed just up the block.  There was a hotel.  He was right. They had just arrived, they could push off the future for a few days.  She could start researching her needs tomorrow.


There was nothing in Chicago about mind readers.  Not that they were common in Mexico either, but they had their place in local superstition.  Everything Solidad could find online seemed to be along the times of people claiming to have the talent, but ultimately it was a hoax or a bunch of mumbo jumbo.  There was no proof of it being a real talent except in obscure places lacking all type of professionalism and thus she wrote the websites and articles off as being writing while under the influence of some drug or another.

Would it be wise, to change that opinion, to bring Camilo to a professor and say 'here is a mind reader, they exist, how can we help them?'.  The response in Mexico was violence, but certainly that wouldn't be the case here in America? The land where people lived happily with money, and everyone could be safe?

Maybe it would work here.  She just had to find the right person.


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