Still shaken from this visitation.
It happened at Chuy’s. At happy hour.
We are convinced it had nothing to do with the margaritas: rocks, no salt. We did, after all, obtain photographic proof.
First, la virgen herself, or perhaps a beatific prankster, appeared in the queso, but Kate B. was so famished that she dipped and scooped, and the lady disappeared.
We were lucky – blessed, you might say. The spirit was strong, despite the will being weak, yet we were still offered one more chance at redemption, to appreciate the benevolence of her visitation – an intimate encounter, if you will. (See pic.)
She came in a blaze of maize. Gentle, symmetrical folds. Tender, blushing button. Hosanna. Hey. Sanna. Sanna. Sanna corn. Aparicion misteriosa.
This article appears in June 1 • 2007.