Del Submarino a las Películas

Stepping into the low degrees of a Selknam night had Lisa McKenzie-McKenzie and Matt Pfarrer bundling inside heavy coats PDQ. He yanked his watch cap from a coat pocket and rolled it down his ears. Like any magician pulling a rabbit out of her tophat, McKenzie Squared jerked a trapper hat from somewhere then set it deeply upon her head. Had the flaps been any longer both would’ve draped her chest.

When they exhaled or spoke, their breath condensed.

Seeing her headgear, Pfarrer asked, “Is that your Sergeant Preston of the Yukon hat? Can dogsleds be far away?”

McKenzie Squared made a face. The kind that showed what she thought of his weary jibe. Continue reading Del Submarino a las Películas

Saliendo el submarino

Upon reaching the driver’s scheduled break stop where passengers might stretch their legs as well as grab compressed bites to eat, that was while letting off those who’d reached their destination but before boarding any joining the journey, strange thoughts of oxidation and reduction struck Matt Pfarrer. He hadn’t needed to consider the processes since high school. He wondered why they arose on the way to Near the End of Argentina.

The motorcoach to Selknam had steadily emptied southward bound. Watching the transport’s rows open up after every arrival, he noticed replacement passengers never equaled the departures. Standing in the midst of one of those towns anywhere in the world that solely seem to exist, no, to serve as way stations for long-haul busses, modern-day stagecoaches really, Pfarrer asked himself did those boarding them ever balance or, better, exceed the departures.

He asked himself had there ever been a full bus whose terminus was Selknam. Continue reading Saliendo el submarino