Juan del Llano

The spiders were still hibernating. The cobwebs on the ceiling quivered in the drafts. Juan del Llano scrunched over far enough to squint at the clock: 7:57 glowed green through the dust. The old black Sony she gave him for Christmas 15 years ago. Did people really used to wake up to the radio? He [...]

Juan del Llano couldn’t breathe. On this sunny late October day, the air inside the old adobe was just too funky. Meanwhile, at the other end of the room from where he sat to write, his wife was balancing her checkbook, a task he gave up twenty years ago after websites were invented because the [...]

It was a stupidly beautiful Sunday afternoon. Dry as old bread, breezy, hot in the sun and cold in the shade. The few clouds that drifted past the sun sent alternating waves of warmth and coolness rolling down the hill. Juan del Llano slouched a little lower in the dead landlord’s patio chair to rest [...]

The way was tight, but Juan del Llano persevered, stepping over clumps of cactus and sharp edges of broken sage to plant his boots in unmarked golden sand. It was precisely this that drew him to explore such places, quiet, mysterious, and protected, where secret magic dwelt. In that way there was always something precious [...]