Author: Pedro Morejón

An old classmate from pre-university was arguing with me about the “Special Period” years. According to him, we’re much worse off now.

I wake up slowly until I manage to shake off the confusion & enter the present, like all the other times I’ve dreamt about her over the years.

It’s the weekend when I come home and find there’s electricity , although you can never be sure. Blackouts come like a thief in the night…

It was 2018. I was looking for something about Cuba, so I turned to Saint Google and came across Havana Times.

My plans are to go out and look for mangos to compensate this hardship. We have a saying here in Cuba: “Year of mangos is a year of hunger.”

To Putin’s advantage, ordinary Cubans aren’t as much interested in freedom and sovereignty as in getting some relief from their shortages.

If the country was living in a paradise, how can you explain the fact that hundreds of thousands of Cubans left this Eden?

I woke up ready to take on the day. I could hear the sound of water falling from my elevated tank outside. “How strange,” I thought…

I’ve been observing this phenomenon, a kind of false prophecy that has been doing the rounds since 1959, when this nightmare began.