My Mother, by Silvia Brotons
My mother is one of those short women who make you affectionate when you see her on the street. She has short, curly hair, but the most striking thing about her are her brown eyes. Her look is wise. Her eyes hide everything she has seen and knows about the world. Because my mother is powerful. She is. She works as a warrior. She wakes up every day, prepares her coffee, dresses in her white uniform and leaves us to fight against dead. She’s not alone in this extraordinary task. He has allies. Her friends, just as powerful as her, work tirelessly to move her great enemy away from the hospital gates. They will not be magicians. They will not be witches. But all together, I can assure you that they have power. Because they're nurses, and they're dedicated to finish with illnesses. And you know what, Covid-19? You’re not going to be the exception.