Marga, it must be said, is kind of a bitch. She didn’t become a high-powered lawyer by shying away from conflict or being reserved about her opinions. Which would be fine in most cases, but not when she’s an upper class woman in a rough and tumble Argentinean neighborhood…and her opinions mostly revolve around how much she fucking hates Argentina. Marga is not making any friends, and her list of full-scale enemies is getting longer by the minute.
At the top of that list – at least initially – is her realtor. Marga has inherited an apartment that she’s looking to rent out and her realtor is very, very late. Her next business appointment – the business that requires her to be in this godforsaken country – is coming up very soon. She is not pleased. When he finally does turn up, his flustered demeanor does nothing to put him in Marga’s good books, though his promise of a wealthy client interested in the property certainly perks up her ears. He’s an odd man, but for some quick cash, maybe she can overlook that. But what’s this talk of an impending eclipse?
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