![]() ![]() ![]() “Some call me that,” she admitted, as she tried to take my hand. Instead, her smile was apologetic and teary - it evoked compassion rather than fear. Most women would be offended to be mistaken for the ghostly apparition, but she did not flinch at the horrific namesake. “Llorona?” I whispered the dreadful name before I could censor myself. The woman’s eyes softened and she looked sad. Recognition entered my mind, and I froze, unable to speak. It is my nightmare, my destiny, my fate to search endlessly for them by night only to find them drowned with the sigh of morning.” On the whole, she looked unkempt and malnourished, close to death. I could tell it used to be a white robe of some kind when it was new, but it was so old it was gray now. The woman’s hair was long and disheveled, and her long tunic dress was torn and frayed. “It is always the same way,” she said, her expression helpless in a worn, weary face. ![]()
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