you wake up on Saturday at 7 AM and partis to saws though not understood well what you're going. The day is cold and gray or maybe as you see it after receiving an sms at 5 in the morning that I remembered the party that you were not. There comes a taxi that takes you to the market if you're willing to listen to the chronology of accidents reported minutes before the newspaper Chain 3 while you keep thinking about the party that you were not.
that cigarette smoke almost in aid to the weather. You do not know what your loneliness cove will be the morning wind? Nicotine is it burns your throat flavored toothpaste? Did you ever know what will? You
you climb to the micro and you are about to lose the look in the window even though the Dominican who is sitting next to you takes pains to talk. Today you want to be in the Paris Metro and no one dares to look at you. With your eyes on yourself reach you. Too.
You get to remote mountain villages with little idea where he is awaiting you. The street opens to your left is always the first choice. Caminás signal slope and nominating the passage of land on the mountain says "Arturo Jauretche." And you realize that you do not know nothing and want to know. The manual begins zonceras recited in memory and smile. You appear happy and suddenly a couple of silhouettes walking towards you. And talk about Jauretche Scalabrini Ortiz and lost in a corner of the hill with two figures become partners. You've got so much to know.
# Nobuscasamor 
0 comments:
Post a Comment