On May 16, 2017, José Francisco left his home in San Cristóbal to buy a package of corn flour. He met some friends and stopped to chat with them when National Guard troops arrived firing their guns to break up a nearby protests in this city of the Venezuelan Andes. Without giving him time to react, a bullet was embedded in José Francisco’s back.
When I was a kid, my father used to read poetry out loud on Saturdays. That experience changed my life. I discovered that words had different dimensions and possibilities to them. I guess that all I have ever wanted to be is a writer.
