By Jessica Watson (Reprinted from Oakland Local)
A tiny girl, her hair in neat pigtails, stops to gape open-mouthed at the bright orange nebulas swirling above her.
Another girl, an otherworldly blue aura outlining her frame, is frozen mid-stride in the mural above, holding a staff tipped with feathers. A few steps down the sidewalk, a man in a cowboy hat turns and calls to the pig-tailed girl with both impatience and tenderness in his voice, interrupting her reverie.
"!Mi hija!" He grasps her hand and hurries her along to their destination, further down International Blvd., as she turns for a last glimpse.
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