Rosa and Logan shared a bit of Spanish and that was how their dating profiles were deleted after a week of wondering if the other was a food-poisoning hallucination. Soon they would share a home in sunny Canton, Ohio.

Logan decided he would marry Rosa Blanca as he stumbled ill through the Oaxacan airport, one massage treatment and greasy chorizo having wreaked havoc upon his now-provably mortal form. A love of learning united the two, and now they knew a few more things: prices are high for a white boy in Tlacolula; More than any other resource, Quickcrete had been truly democratized in Mexico; Lactaid and digestive enzymes can only go so far.

Dry-heaving and wishing on fallen eyelashes instagram models would kill for, Logan said “I wish to marry this woman” (in his head, because otherwise the wish doesn’t count) before chewing more anti-nausea candy. Rosa Blanca would ferry him down the aforementioned democratized-concrete stairway of the $27 hotel, its Escher-esque power inducing a haunting vertigo into the taxi and all the way home.

Making their home in Canton, Ohio for now, Rosa Blanca and Logan bond over the city’s two main exports: Football and death. Neither care much for football, and death will for a while be happily ignored (sudden aggressive merging on i-77 an unfortunately common exception).