“Sitting on the bed, you try to make out the source of that diffuse, opaline light that hardly lets you distinguish the objects in the room, and the presence of Aura, from the golden atmosphere that surrounds them. She sees you looking up, trying to find where it comes from. You can tell from her voice that she’s kneeling down in front of you.

‘The sky is neither high nor low. It’s over us and under us at the same time.’”

—Carlos Fuentes, Aura, 1965.