The future borders the present at all times. Thus, although silver linings could be part of possible futures, they aren’t enough to protect future generations.
It was cold in the children’s detention center. A little boy named Plinio, his bangs draped over his dark eyes, huddled up with the other children, smelling of sour fear. He couldn’t sleep, he had a stomachache, but the guards would only give him toilet paper if he asked for it. Plinio bit his lip hard in silence.
Coming from the waist of the Americas, the Panamanian boy had crossed many worlds alongside his young mother, Rosa. On the way, they had met Cameroonians, Colombians, and Haitians who had paid forty dollars to face the hell of the Selva del Darién. Hearing their stories, the boy imagined the jungle engulfed in flames and the poisonous golden frogs from his grandmother’s stories jumping from the fire like sparks.
