Runner Up: James Tipton
Chapala, Jalisco, MEXICO
James Tipton lives in the tropical mountains of central Mexico where he writes short poems and short fiction. He is also Associate Editor of the monthly magazine in English, published in Mexico, El Ojo del Lago (The Eye of the Lake) and Book Review Editor for the on-line magazine, Mexico Connect. He has published more than 1,000 short stories, poems, articles and reviews in North American magazines, including Esquire, The Nation, Christian Science Monitor, American Literary Review, and Field.
His book of poems, Letters from a Stranger (with a Foreword by Isabel Allende), won the Colorado Book Award in 1999.
His most recent collections of short poetry are published in bilingual (Spanish and English) editions: Washing Dishes in the Ancient Village (Lavando platos en el antiguo pueblo) and All the Horses of Heaven (Todos los Caballos del Paraíso). He is currently completing a collection of short stories set in Mexico.
Washing Dishes in the Ancient Village is available through Bread and Butter Press/1150 S. Glencoe/Denver, CO 80246, $10.95 plus $3.00 shipping & handling. All the Horses of Heaven is available through www.themetpress.com, $12.95 plus $4.00 shipping & handling.
He is currently completing a collection of short stories set in Mexico.
And To Think That Only Yesterday
It was common, in recent years, for Enedina de los Angeles to doze off sitting up.
But today, when Enedina woke, she was sitting on a long bench, her bag at her feet, just outside the ruins of a large adobe house. She was covered with dust as if she had been on a long journey.
Night was beginning to fall, and the sky was now close, but Enedina felt she could hold it back a few more minutes by reaching up and pressing her palms against it.
"Where are you?" she called out, hoping Rafael, her husband, would come running to her.
She should, she thought, be more worried than she was. She shook the dust off her faded bag and reached in. The tamales were still warm. She would have a good story to tell when she got back to town.
But while she was eating, she forgot about the night and by now it had dropped down to her shoulders. It took all of her strength to lift the sky back up, but she needed to do this so that she could think clearly about what had happened.
Then she began to hear the distant bell. The sound got closer and closer. That house in ruins reminded Enedina of the chapel she had loved when she was a child.
Enedina got up. She realized the sky had now fallen around her knees. She waded through the cool sky to the door. She could hear familiar voices. Her father and mother. Talking about their little girl.
She would surprise them all right.
They had never seen her so grown up.
And to think that only yesterday the doctors in the government hospital in Hermosillo told Enedina de los Angeles that she was dying.