Ida Jagaric

“My schnecke. My little snail, do you know that’s what it means? It’s a term of affection in my country. My love. My snail. I don’t want to waste more time. I have nothing to hide and neither do you.”
― Mariana Zapata, Kulti

“This is what matters. You are my gift, my second chance, and I will cherish you and your dream. I will protect both of you.”
― Mariana Zapata, Kulti

“Dear God. A man like that making kissing sounds at what I could only guess was his baby. My vagina, my vagina didn’t know what to do with itself.”
― Mariana Zapata, Kulti

“But hey, I had the best times during each sprint,” I added.

His laugh was soft and possibly a little disappointed. “That’s my girl. Running every morning?”

“Every morning and I’ve been swimming more.” I stopped talking when I heard a voice in the background.

All I heard was my dad mumbling, “It’s Sal… you wanna talk to her?... Okay… Sal, your mom says hi.”

“Tell her I said hi back.”

“My daughter says hi… no, she’s mine. The other one is yours… Ha! No!... Sal are you mine or your mom’s?” he asked me.

“I’m the milkman’s.”

“I knew it!” He finally laughed with a deep pleased sigh.

I was smiling like a total fool. “I love you too, old man.”
― Mariana Zapata, Kulti