The Brothers Tomado del Catálogo

The morning air lapped his face like cold milk, the sun hidden behind a lump of gray clouds. The Cataluña sisters sold queso de cabra from the back of a handcart, all three sisters taking turns pulling the cart from town to town. The punier of the sisters, Esmeralda, who’s left leg was two inches longer than her right, hobbled and tugged on the handcart rope, her feet shifting unevenly beneath the weight of the cart. Miriam, who’s right leg was an inch shorter than her left, pulled the handcart like a bull cow, one foot in front of the other. Collette, who’s legs were a hair’s width dissimilar, pulled the handcart with ease, barely breaking a sweat. The brothers Tomado del Catálogo sold old detective novels from the back of a funeral cart, three for a dollar, half a dozen for two. To Tomas, the biggest of the brothers, was delegated the job of pushing, as he among the brothers had the biggest legs.