At 8 a.m., she handed the paper to Professor Méndez. He glanced at the cover, then at her. "Interesting choice," he said. "No university seal?"
(The Cost of a Dream)
She printed the cover page first, alone. The cheap ink smudged near her thumb. It wasn't perfect. But as she slid it into the clear plastic sleeve, she realized: the portada was not a mask. It was a door she had built herself, with borrowed tools and trembling hands. portada trabajo universidad
It was supposed to be simple. A formality. But the cover page was the first thing Professor Méndez would see. The first judgment . At 8 a
Below that, in small letters: Trabajo Final – Sociología . Her name. Her father's name, too, as a dedication she would later erase. "No university seal
"Portada trabajo universidad," she whispered to herself, typing the words into a search engine. A thousand rigid templates appeared: blue gradients, clip art globes, generic serif fonts. Universidad de Buenos Aires , she typed at the top. Then her name. Then the date.