Mis Marcadores Moviles !!top!! Instant

Sofía stared at the photo for a long time. She had no memory of Mateo. No memory of Granada. No memory of a promise made under a bridge of sighs.

And yet, her hand was trembling.

She didn’t remember putting it there. In the image, she was laughing, her hair shorter, her eyes wider. Next to her stood a man with a crooked smile and a guitar case slung over his shoulder. On the back, in smudged ink: Sofía + Mateo. Granada. Puente de los Suspiros. Otoño. mis marcadores moviles

She grabbed her coat, left the apartment without locking the door, and walked to the nearest travel agency. Sofía stared at the photo for a long time