#afakegod

“Ah-ah-ah!” Imelda protested, snatching the instrument from his hands, taking it out of his reach. She would not throw it out or destroy it, after all he was not her familia, and did not have to obey her family’s rules, but while he was here, under her roof, he would have to abstain. “No music. If you want new boots, then you will have the mejores botas, but you will not play while you are waiting for them. This,” She held up the instrument, “You will have it back when you leave, señor”  

|| Hit that ♥ for a starter ||

“Y they believed you? Pero you look nothing like a god, amigo. No offense.”

He had always believed his amigo to be one of the trickiest hombres he knew. It was hard to live life within the streets in the Land of the Dead- he could only imagine what it was like being in the Land of the Living. Visiting with Miguel, however, was never a dull time. Héctor let out a loud laugh, slamming his bony palm against the table between them. Despite being dead for ninety-six years, his youth remained ever strong- he would always be twenty-one.

❣❣  “  So how was being a god like to you?  ”

If he thought she wouldn’t notice, he was gravely mistaken. But no offense was taken, humans had always taken interest in pretending to play god. & he was quite a story to hear from the Candlemaker, whom she occasionally received visits from just to tell her the most amusing lives out there.

Clearly, it would have been a waste to miss this opportunity to meet the man himself. He also had other affiliates with him, though they were nowhere to be seen. What a shame--she would have loved to chat with them all, but one would do for now.

“  Not as easy as you think it is, no?  ”

 hurrying towards the door, he slammed it open -- mostly to                                                   get everyone’s attention in a dramatic fashion -- 

                      ❝ men -- miguel, stop with that noise -- set course for east,

                                             we’re going to spain !! ❞