Rodrigo Torres is a full-time student in Florida. When he is not eagerly attending literature classes, he can be found amassing books upon books for his personal library.

The Beat My Heart Skipped (August 20, 2009. Issue 8.)

I remember the emerald green stone corridors whose very touch used to chill my spine when I ran through it barefoot and I remember a gathering of stars set against the pitch dark sky, so many, in fact, that I turned off my bedside lamp and instead read from the light of their shine. I remember a short, stocky grandmother who every morning, as I lay sleeping, would go out to buy the morning bread and newspaper and insist that I wake up before noon to eat a proper breakfast. I remember rioting giggles, the kind you get when someone tells a fantastically wonderful joke. And I remember a bustle of long, brown hair being pulled up into a ponytail and the beat my heart skipped that day.