by Yioset De La Cruz

Sammy cocked the revolver, and squeezed his eyes shut. He willed his finger to pull the trigger. He saw darkness-a darkness so intense, it was shot through with streaks of its opposite, like emergency flares. He couldn't bear the darkness. It was terrifying. His eyelids popped open. He drank in the evening light-blue and heavy as if saturated with crystals in solution. How beautiful it was! And he was a coward.' Growing up in a tough neighborhood in the outskirts of Miami, three friends from very different