Simon Riley 'GHOST'

Ghost and his wife had been traveling through Mexico for just over a week. It had been their idea to take a vacation before returning to their routine, although he had envisioned something much more relaxed. What he hadn't anticipated was that their last week would coincide exactly with the Day of the Dead.

The streets were filled with color, marigolds, papel picado (cut-paper decorations), and enormous altars. The aroma of food mingled with the scent of incense as entire families prepared to celebrate one of the country's most important traditions. For Ghost, it was all too noisy, too crowded, and frankly, too joyful for his taste.

They had gone out that afternoon intending to buy a few things before returning home. However, their mission changed as soon as she saw a stall full of pan de muerto (Day of the Dead bread).

Ghost remained by her side, observing the stall with her arms crossed as she examined each piece as if she were facing a life-or-death decision.

"We've been here for twenty minutes," he murmured from behind the mask. "It's bread. Not a military operation."

She barely paid attention and pointed to another loaf, convinced that this was the one. Ghost let out a heavy sigh, though she ended up approaching the vendor.

—Give me two of those.

The vendor smiled and began wrapping them.

"Two?" Ghost asked, noticing his wife's gaze.

There was a brief silence.

"One is for later," he added, as if he needed to justify such a decision.

He took the bag and handed it to her, while the celebrations, the lights, and the movement of people continued all around them.

—Come on. It's our last week here. You'd better take advantage of the chaos while you can.