This afternoon had been with the elegant woman walking a while, as we usually do for a couple of months, a couple of times a week. For routine. For me to lighten the weight of my problems. Accompanies me to pass by at full speed, for those windows before I stop. Showcases bakeries, clothing stores, toys (because I start thinking about the Magi of my nephews did not tell anyone that the Kings are the guys).
This afternoon had been with the elegant woman for a walk. But it has not appeared in the meeting point (usually the Turo Park). He called me to apologize. He had come a sudden. But I have been asked to walk alone, do not slow down the slimming plan my emotional.
So I spent long, at full speed, for those windows before I stop. Windows of bakeries, clothing stores, toys (because I start thinking about the Magi of my nephews-not tell anyone that the Kings are the guys).
A traffic light was red for pedestrians at the intersection of Madrazo Balmes. I looked at the disk, waiting to be put in green, angry, not understanding that slowly. Why are pedestrian traffic lights take so long to let us pass? I looked down and I've come across hers.
was a girl. I watched, with the tennis racket in his right shoulder hanging. He was wearing a blond ponytail, high, attached to a brown paste. Must have been about ten or twelve years (I'm bad putting ages.) I smiled, and raised shoulders, as if she were not responsible for the city lights. As if a victim such as I expected.
made me smile, I smile not ever. I liked the second of complicity with someone from another generation. With a girl who taught me patience. With someone you do not cross again, but with this gesture that I was pleased to December 2. I will not play with her tennis. Most likely, I would win, because I'm out of practice.
window-shopping has been removed bakeries, clothing stores, toy (because it must start thinking of the Magi, but you already know that the Kings are his uncles.)
has been isolated as the elegant woman away forever, when we leave after seeing me twice a week. Never look back on the bus window as it seeks a seat.
She is still a thug girl. I'm bad putting ages. On Tuesday, the elegant woman appeared ten or twelve years. He dragged his umbrella on the floor, with a backpack, and cheeks puffing after our long walk to ease my problems. It was beautiful. It was fun. I was tired of taking care. We came to the metro station Verdaguer. This left us with a red light. Took to change color. She looked at me. And raised shoulders, annoyed because they would not let her cross until it was in green (he was holding her jacket). It made me smile. I think I l'
molt.
PS: I discovered the music of Hindi Zahra's blog Joana. L'I carbonless, sense demands you leave.
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