I've had a hard time trying to figure out my story, but i think i finally have it. The idea came to me while I was looking at pictures in my computer from my trip to Alice Town, Bimini. This is a place that i absolutely love. I've been going there since I was about 8 years old. I love the people, the humility and simplicity that surrounds the island. It consists of a little town with a small population where everybody knows each other. Where everyone seems content and with little preoccupation.
As i kept thinking about this place, my mind started going. I started to imagine my main character. I started to incorporate the oral tradition, that it is generally a key quality from these small towns, into my story relating it to my personal experience with the poem my dad use to recite.
It all just kind of came pouring out of me in Spanish,
"El mar caribe no siempre fue azul majestuoso. Poca era la diferencia entre el abundante mar y los pequeñitos parches de tierra. La oscuridad era una sola tonalidad, y la escasa luz la conseguían los pescadores en las noches de luna llena. De eso consistía la vida antes del natalicio del sol. La leyenda cuenta de un viejo pescador que habitaba una pequeña isla en soledad. Las noches en que la luna no brillaba, las estrellas hacían compañía al viejo pescador, el cual cantaba y tarareaba y estas danzaban al compas. Una estrella en particular, esperaba con ansias todas las noches por su viejo pescador, y brillaba lo mas que podia para brindarle una pequeña guía hacia ella. Pero aun así el pescador no abandonaba su isla. Aproximadamente cada 25 noches, el pescador empezaba sus preparativos en anticipación a la luna llena que se avecinaría en la noche 28 a pocos metros de su isla. La luna llena no solo proveía luz para la pesca pero poseía cantidades de cualidades extraordinarias. Tan solo un frasquito de luna era suficiente para alejar males, encantar a los desencantados, aliviar a los niños inquietos y ayudar al bien morir. El viejo pescador iba en búsqueda de un aire de luna para rehabilitar sus añejas fuerzas. Mientras se dedicaba a la luna, aquella estrella lo alumbraba con sus celos ardientes. Y cuando el día 28 llego, nació el sol. Aquella estrella había estallado de su amor embotellado. El pescador salió de su humilde casa para darse a ver que el mar era azul y su pelo era blanco ya. Los pequeños parches de tierras se convertían ahora en grandes continentes, debido al calor ardiente de esta estrella evolucionada. La luna opacada ahora por una nueva esfera. El viejo pescador lloraba por el desacostumbre de luz en sus ojos y por la falta de su frasco de luna. La estrella que ahora por nombre le daban sol, puso fin a la oscuridad perpetua y feliz miraba como todos los botecitos pescaban alegremente. Todos menos el de su viejo pescador, que se encontraba tirado en el suelo atacado por su vejez. El sol sabia que necesitaría de la luna. Y así fue que se creo el día y la noche. Todavía, en algún lugar remoto del Mar Caribe, existe esta pequeña isla. Donde? no esta claro. Pero atrevidos son aquellos que van en búsqueda del día 28 en el que la luna se acerca a solo metros de distancia, para regresar con un frasco de luna."
Translation:
"The Caribbean Sea was not always a majestic blue, but the difference between the abundant sea and the small patches of earth. The darkness was a single tonality, and the little light obtained by the fishermen where on the nights of full moon filled with stars.That was life before the sun was born. The legend tells of an old fisherman who inhabited a small island in solitude. The nights on which the moon did not shine, the stars always kept company with the old fisherman, who sang And hummed to them and they danced to compass. A particular star, waited anxiously every night for his old fisherman, and gleamed as much as she could to give him a little guide to her. But still the fisherman did not leave his island. Approximately every 25 nights, the fisherman began his preparations in anticipation of the full moon that would come at night 28 just a few meters from his island. The full moon not only provided light for fishing but possessed extraordinary qualities. Just a little bottle of moon was enough to ward off ills, to enchant the disenchanted, to relieve the restless children, to look at what needs to be seen, and to help the good die. That night was a very important one for our old fisherman, who went in search of an air of moon to rehabilitate its old strength. After two days of preparation for offerings to the moon, the star lit him with his ardent jealousy. And when the 28th arrived, the sun was born. That star had burst from her bottled love. The fisherman left his humble house to see that the sea was blue and his hair was white already. Small patches of earth now became large continents, due to the fiery heat of this evolved star. The moon now obscured by a new sphere. But still with so much power, she left the small island of his old fisherman intact. Who was crying because he was not used to the light in his eyes and because he was left without hi jar of moon. The star, which was now called sun, put an end to the perpetual darkness, and watched happily as all the little boats fished merrily. All but the one of his old fisherman, who was lying on the ground attacked by his old age. The sun knew he would need the moon. And that's how day and night ware created. Now, some say, somewhere in the Caribbean Sea this small island exists. Where? it is not clear. But daring are those who go in search of the 28th day in which the moon approaches only meters away, to return with a jar of moon. "
