¡Feliz 2018!

Jugando en la calle

La calle siempre fue el mejor lugar para jugar, pero, con el tiempo, la calle ha sido tomada por las carreteras y los coches, disminuyendo el espacio de juego de los niños. Por esa razón, muchos ciudades están devolviendo las ciudades a sus legítimos dueños, que no son otros que los vecinos, peatonizando los barrios. Valsequillo, octubre de 2017.

One shot and then another

It's the first job I have to do this month. My hands are shaking and my heart is pounding. I can feel the beats in my temples and in my chest. I'll never get used to this shitty job. I've been sitting almost two hours. Only five hundred meters from his house. Watching the people pass by. Carrying with them the weight of their normal lives, happy and unhappy. Someone looks at me distracted, I'm sure he's noticed my appearance. I'm wearing my red Chicago Bulls cap up to my eyebrows. I always liked Jordan. I also wear my glasses black, which gives me a rather disturbing look. I admit it, but I don't care.

In the tranquility of waiting and as I read "The Hunt for the Killer." I remember what it was like the first time. Ugh, it was hard, I have to say. Killing a person, when you're only 13, is hard. 

The band, like a pack of wolves, puts you to the test and the test was blood. It's always blood. They gave me a two-inch dagger with a nacre grip. I still have it. The target was an asshole, a sneak. I had to teach him a lesson. But the nerves. The tension of the moment and the adrenaline flowing through the blood, did the rest. A stab wound to the ass, but the fucker twisted like a Staffordshire and the other stab went straight to the neck. I looked at him as he tried to stop the blood spurt with his hands. But it was in vain, because he soon vanished, bled to death like a pig at the hands of a murderer.

From then on, I earned the band's respect. The fucking respect. "An initiatory blood baptism, common among youth gangs," I read a few years later. Because I learned to read. It made me very angry not to know what the papers were saying. Then I became an incorrigible reader.

Since I was born, my life had been a disaster. My father's motherfucker was an alcoholic. He died two years ago, and my mother, my poor mother. She endured as much as she could and more. But he fell down the stairs, running away from my father's motherfucker's umpteenth beating. She ended up lying prostrate on a bed, fed by a troop of purulent sores. A brutal infection sent her to the afterlife. Poor old lady!

But that's all in the past. I work on my own now. How far those years are, how far away...! It's almost time. I recognized Mercedes Benz's blue license plate. I get up and I'm on my way to number thirty-eight of this very street.

I ring the bell when I get there. I am greeted by an impressive black dog, with face of very few friends.  He keeps barking, wagging his tail back and forth. I insist again with the darn bell. 

While I'm waiting, I remove the safety catch from the gun, pulling it out of the back of the belt. I pull out the muffler and screw it into my Parabellum. The Parabellum is the best for this kind of work. 

I see him show up. Confirm target. I'm a good physiognomist. And I'm paid to be. I don't like to make mistakes. He comes up and opens the steel gate for me. Grab the dog by the necklace. He looks at me and, without saying a word, I shoot the dog in the head, leaving it out of play. In the next millisecond, our eyes meet. He knows it. He's gonna die. One shot, and then another, between the two eyebrows. He didn't have time to react. He fell flat on his face beside his dog. I closed the gate. I walked down the street, leaving behind that shocking scene.

I have to quit this job. But I don't know how to do anything but shoot. I'm a hitman.

 Image source: Pixabay 

Alfredo Kraus a contraluz; uno de los grandes

Alfredo Kraus, uno de los mejores tenores de la historia. Una gran escultura lo homenajea en Las Palmas de Gran Canaria, cerca del auditorio que también lleva su nombre. Noviembre de 2017.

Auf Wiedersehen, adiós Hamburg

Ya llegó la hora de despedirse de Hamburgo. Han sido unos días muy intensos.

Es ist Zeit, sich von Hamburg zu verabschieden. Es waren ein paar sehr intensive Tage.

The title of the post? Short

At this point we all know that titles have to be attractive and there are a large number of entries that tell us about the topic; according to St. Google, 12,400,000 results speak of the topic.

Here at Steemit, we have a lot of posts that talk about it, however, I am not going to tell you about all the aspects that must be taken into account in order to make a title attractive. I am going to tell you about a single aspect that for me is one of the most important and is its size, because, once again, size does matter.

It matters because our brains like short titles, because they bring clarity and help in the processing of information.

Keep in mind that our brain processes 400 million bits per second and that's a lot of information for us to complicate it, even more, putting a long and incomprehensible title.

For that reason we have to make an intellectual effort to try to make a title as short as possible and at the same time the title must to talk about the content of your post. 

Yes, I know it's complicated, but not impossible. 

The first thing you have to take into account is what you are going to talk about in your post, because if you don't know, it will be very difficult to make a short and clear title, because, many times, we have an undetermined nebula of what we are going to talk about and that detail complicates the issue a lot. 

One thing that can help you make a short, clarifying title is to write the entry first and then write the title, because it might give you some idea for the title. 

So the first step in making a short and clear title is to know what we are going to talk about in our post; that is the fundamental principle. If we have that aspect solved, making the title won't be too difficult.

Once we have determined the issue we are going to deal with, we need to design the title of our entry. 

To do this, it is necessary that the title does not contain more than 60 characters. In this link:  Contador de Caracteres para SEO  you can "measure" how long your title is.   

As I have already said, our brain likes that of "yes brief, twice as good", but not only does our brain like it, but also St. Google, who enjoys indexing short titles, not more than 60 characters, the long ones shorten them without compassion. Because, my friends, it is not only necessary to think about the 7 crucial days of life of our posts in Steemit, but also that those posts will be read in the future and that they will form part of our personal brand.  Don't forget that.

Another aspect that has to be in the title is the main theme of the post. I know it is logical, but there are still people who do not have it very clear, so we must do everything possible to make that the message in our post is in the title.

I know this is difficult, but we have to try, because the title is the doorway to our post, it's the first thing our potential reader and follower reads.

That there is such a relationship between the title and the entry is very important because one of the aspects that bothers readers most are false expectations; if your title says pears, talk about pears, do not talk to us about apples, avocados, bananas, oranges and mangoes, no, talk about pears, that 90% of your entry talks about pears.

So you already know it, the title of your post, short, clear and containing the essence of your post. 

 Photo source:  Canvas

Belén de Arena de la Playa de Las Canteras. Visión nocturna.

Ayer asistí a un recital de poesía en la playa de Las Canteras en Las Palmas de Gran Canaria, quizás, la playa urbana más hermosa del mundo, por no decir del infinito y más allá porque es espectacular y no porque lo diga yo que vivo a viva a escasos seis minutos de ella, sino porque lo dicen todos y cada uno de los visitantes que tienen el gusto de recabar en estas islas.

Después del recital, los organizadores nos brindaron una visita guiada por el Belén de Arena de Las Canteras que han creado en la playa y que llevan 12 años montando con esculturas realizadas solo con arena. 

Decir que un compañero nuestro y paisano mio, un Steemtian, Etual Ojeda, @elportugal, fue el pionero que hace doce años atrás comenzó con la aventura de hacer las esculturas del primer Belén de Arena de la playa de Las Canteras y que  hace estas maravillas con la arena:

Después del merecido reconocimiento a Etual, seguimos con el belén de este año y es que el resultado es impresionante, tanto como convertir dos mil toneladas de arena en arte, un arte transitorio, pero arte con todas las letras, arte como la vida misma,  que vivirá en playa de Las Canteras hasta el 8 de enero de 2018.

Los artistas invitados este año han hecho un trabajo maravilloso, con esculturas que llegan hasta los cuatro metros de alto y siete de ancho, un arte efímero, pero inmenso y lleno de profesionalidad y que vale la pena ir a visitar.

Custodian el Belén de Arena las autoridades de arena, inmóviles e impasibles ante lo que está ocurriendo a su alrededor.

Las esculturas de arena nos hacen un recorrido por las principales etapas del nacimiento de Jesús. Una de las más impresionantes es el nacimiento, una obra escultórica casi perfecta, con detalles increíbles y que cuesta creer que se hayan realizado en arena.

 Otra obra escultórica a destacar es la anunciación, una obra que destaca y que dice mucho de los escultores que han participado en esta edición.

No se podía quedar atrás la visita de los Reyes Magos que, guiados por la estrella de la Navidad, llegan hasta el portal de Belén.

Y no podía faltar la representación del poder romano:

Lo importante de este Belén no solo es que es único en Europa, ni que las esculturas sean de lo mejor que se esculpe en arena, ni que lo vayan a visitar más de 200.000 personas (el año pasado lo visitaron 214.000), sino que los donativos que se recauden irán destinados a los comedores sociales de la ciudad de Las Palmas de Gran Canaria. Un detalle muy importante y que no debemos dejar pasar.

Fuente de la imagen: propia y @elportugal

Marcar la hora tiene su peso

Sí, marcar la hora tiene su trabajo, llevar de una lado para otro la aguja pequeña, sin olvidarte de la grande; detenerte en las en punto para que suenen las campanas de la iglesia, así un segundo tras otro, un minuto trans otro, una hora tras otra, un día tras otro; sí, marcar la hora tiene su peso. Valdeande, septiembre de 2017

¿Qué he visto? Tal vez soñar de Antonio Tabares

OPINIÓN

El teatro es magia, una magia mutable, que nace, se desarrolla y no muere, porque tiene la capacidad de transformarse y quedarse dentro de ti para siempre y eso lo consiguió Tal vez soñar de Antonio Tabares. Una obra que te lleva por el delicado tema de la muerte de una manera entrañable, pero al mismo tiempo, haciendo que te replantees su concepto desde el principio hasta el final de la obra. 

Tal vez soñar es una obra magnífica en su conjunto, porque la compañía Una hora menos producciones realizó un trabajo digno de destacar, acompañado de un extraordinario texto, unos excelentes actores, una dirección muy cuidada y una puesta en escena a la altura de la obra.

 LA PUESTA EN ESCENA

La puesta en escena me encantó, con esa proyección del cuadro del Jardín de las Delicias de El Bosco que ya te dice que están entrando en el mundo onírico y que en él todo puede pasar.  Lo cierto es que la puesta en escena es de lo más cuidada, combinando, de forma exquisita, los elementos clásicos de la teatralidad con los audiovisuales que ayudan a potenciar el resultado final de la producción teatral que dejan en el espectador un sabor agradable por el trabajo bien realizado.

LOS ACTORES

En el buen resultado final de esta obra tienen mucho que decir los actores,  Marta Viera, Miguel Ángel Maciel y Quique Fernández que hicieron unos papeles extraordinarios. Marta Viera puso sobre el escenario un amplio abanico de registros interpretativos que dice mucho de su incansable labor actoral y de su crecimiento como actriz. Quique Fernández  nos ofreció una interpretación múltiple, destacando la interpretación del amante alcoholizado de Inma y Miguel Ángel Maciel nos dejó una sobresaliente interpretación.

LA DIRECCIÓN

No cabe duda de que el regusto final del trabajo bien hecho tiene mucho que ver con la dirección de Mario Vega que supo combinar casi a la perfección, cual maestro de ceremonia, todos y cada uno de los elementos que tenía en sus manos y el resultado no podía ser otro que el que vimos en el teatro Cuyás.

EL TEXTO

El texto de Toni Tabares es un texto bien escrito, lleno de espiritualidad y esperanza, en el que los sueños son el camino que nos conectan con el más allá. El texto tiene una estructura narrativa y teatral muy cuidada, que hace que el texto fluya por la hora y cuarto que dura la obra y que el espectador agradece porque lo hace, en todo momento, partícipe de la historia que le están contando desde el escenario.

 SINOPSIS

Inma se conecta con sus seres queridos después de muerta. Los sueños son el camino de conexión con el más allá y a través de esa conexión onírica sabe cómo les está yendo a los que más quiere; su marido, su amante y su hijo.

FICHA ARTÍSTICA Y TÉCNICA

Texto: Antonio Tabares

Dirección: Mario Vega

Actores: Marta Viera, Miguel Ángel Maciel y Quique Fernández

Dirección de Audiovisuales: Juan Carlos Cruz

Producción: Unahoramenos

Fuente de la imagen: http://unahoramenos.es

La Navidad ha llegado

Este es el árbol de Navidad que está en la playa de Las Canteras en Las Palmas de Gran Canaria, con un azul precioso que lo ilumina todo.

This is the Christmas tree at Las Canteras beach in Las Palmas de Gran Canaria, with a beautiful blue that illuminates everything.

Ya es Navidad

Ya llegó la Navidad, pero hace mucho tiempo que está aquí, desde finales de octubre ya empiezan los vendedores de quimeras a soltar el tufillo a compra y oropel, que, como un perfume invisible, se te va metiendo por los poros.

Y con la Navidad viene el tren de las buenas acciones y de las bienaventuranzas. Un tren con los vagones de la felicidad, la salud, la solidaridad, el amor, la fraternidad, la caridad, los buenos deseos, y no sé qué cosas más. Un tren que parece que solo pasa por estas fechas, porque el resto del año, este tren está durmiendo el sueño de los justos en las cocheras del olvido.

Hay alguno que me dice: «hay que ser positivo, por lo menos somos buenos en Navidad» y es casi verdad, porque casi todos sacamos nuestros mejores deseos, e incluso le hacemos un lavado de cara a nuestros más profundos temores, a nuestros más profundos odios e intentamos redimirnos; pero qué difícil es arrancarnos el odio, porque el odio es como un puto cáncer que o lo extirpas, o te acaba comiendo el alma.

Pero la Navidad también es ilusión, ilusión para los más pequeños, que tienen el alma limpia como el agua cristalina y creen a pie juntillas que Papá Noel vendrá el 25 de diciembre y que los Reyes Magos vendrán del lejano oriente en sus viejos camellos para dejarles muchos regalos. Y qué rabia me da que, poco a poco, cuando van creciendo, y su alma se va enturbiando de los conocimientos de la cruda realidad, los niños van perdiendo esa ilusión que tanto les hacía felices. A mi me gusta pensar, (lo hago para no entristecerme) que los que regalamos somos los herederos de los Reyes Magos, que llevamos muy dentro ese mandato celestial que los llevó a un pesebre o a una carpintería de Belén hace ya más de 2000 años.

Por otra parte, están los que dicen que estas fiestas son una merienda de energúmenos, alentados por el nuevo Dios de nuestros tiempos, nuestro adorado Consumismo, que tanto nos seduce, que tanto nos quiere. Ese gran hermano, que siempre está vigilante, siempre está ahí, en todos sitios, en nuestras redes sociales, en nuestros televisores, en nuestros ordenadores, en nuestros smartphones, en las todas la calles, en los montes e incluso en nuestros buzones. 

No les falta razón, hay que decirlo, porque en estas fechas estamos atrapados, no podemos escapar a las redes del aparato consumista, y entra en tu vida como un tsunami al que no puedes responder, porque si lo haces te destroza como un barco de chapa raída; tienes que dejarte llevar por sus efluvios envolventes, por su música celestial, por sus chutes de falsa ilusión que te dejan en el nirvana por unos días.

En fin, esta es la Navidad y hay que sobrellevarla, sobre todo, con buen ánimo, y sacarle punta a su mejor cara, que no es otra que la de las buenas intenciones y del amor, y sin olvidarnos de no perder el agua cristalina de la ilusión de los más pequeños.

Fuente de la imagen: http://www.elzurrondelospostres.com

A Papá Noel se le perdió un reno

Parece que a Papá Noel se le perdió un reno y vino a parar a Santa Cruz de La Palma en las Islas Canarias.

It seems that Santa Claus lost a reindeer and came to Santa Cruz de La Palma in the Canary Islands.

La trama

Me llamó mucho la atención estas figuras en el portal de Belén de Las Palmas de Gran Canaria, ¿qué estarán tramando?

I was very surprised by these figures on the portal of Bethlehem Las Palmas de Gran Canaria, what are they up to?

The last note of the course

Leonides was a bad student. He did not understand the world around him because, even the simplest element, it was very complicated. He never understood why they had given him such a fancy name. He would have preferred a simpler one. With a John or with a Peter, with any of them, he would have conformed.

But things got twisted. He started going to school and he found  the world of mathematics, language, physics, chemistry and science. Why was the world so difficult and complicated when everything could be simpler? He did not understand it.

But Leonides had will and a lot of time. Those two elements were the ones that supported, from the base, his future as a student. 

He went from one educational level to another like the one that climbs a mountain. Step by step, centimeter by centimeter, until it arrives at the University.

In the university he continued using that binomial that had given him so much success, will and time.

Thus he reached the last year of his career. There he found the most convoluted subject of his life:

 Quantum analysis of refractory optical bipolarity. 

This subject taught it by Professor Euclides, who was reputed to be one of the toughest in the university. He had always seen in Leonides a mediocre, unintelligent student with little future as a telecommunications professional.

Leonides devoted himself completely to the subject, because he knew he would have problems. He looking for the time and the will from where he did not have. He even left some subjects for February to dedicate himself, with all his strength, to climb one of the most complex routes of that mountain of five peaks, which was the university.

When the day of the exam arrived, he was prepared, self-assured  and confident to pass the exam, until he turn around the exercise around. In that instant he understood that it was not going to be easy. Just at the moment when the teacher said in his laconic voice: 

The exam begins

Their eyes met. He with the cold and distant look and the professor with a forced and cynical smile.

The next day he went to look at the notes. He searched itself in the list that posted on the bulletin board. He followed with his index finger each one of the names that formed his course, while listening to his heart runaway. He stopped in his name and saw the note: 4,99 - Suspense.

He watched the tutorial hours of Professor Euclides. Every day from 1:30 p.m. He turned his wrist and check that it was 13.15.  He decided to wait. I wanted a reasonable explanation, if there was one.

When the time came, he knocked on the door of the professor's office, heard how he invited him to come in and he said:

—You have not delayed much in coming to claim the note.

—I have come to see my exam. I want a logical explanation of that tenth that has left me out of the approved.

—A logical explanation? I do not know if my explanation will be logical.

—But a tenth is nothing.

—Nothing! This affirms what of you, gentleman. A tenth is a lot, so much that it can, for example, ruin all scientific research.

Yes, but this is not a scientific investigation, it is a simple examination. I have been a good student, I have never missed class and I have done all the works you have proposed.

—Is true, but the exam is the exam and you have not approved it. It is simple.

—Yes, for a tenth.

How I explain it to you so that you understand me. A tenth can be the border between life and death, between staying or passing, between going up and going down. Understands?

—No, I do not understand.

—Well, if you do not understand ... There's nothing more to talk about. You suspended and that is not going to change anyone, —he said sharply looking at his papers.

Leonides looked around wondering why things were so complicated. He observed Professor Euclides's desk, with mountains of papers. The professor looked at his papers and ended the conversation.

Leonides turned around, opened the door to get out, but could see that on the shelf there was a box cutter yellow. He stopped, took it, pressed the button take out the steel blade, turned and said to the teacher:

—I've thought about that, that a tenth can be the difference between life and death. And you are right.

The professor raised his head, and at this precise moment, Leonides cut his throat. He sat in front of the teacher watching him to bleed as the professor  trying to stop the bleeding with his hands, but nothing could do.

Leonides got up, approached the professor, moved the chair back and looked at the computer screen his file. He looked for the box where the 4,99 was. He selected it with the mouse and changed it to a five. He closed the program of qualifications, put the box cutter in the pocket of the sweatshirt and when he left, he thought::

 —What you need to do to change a note.

 Image source: Pixabay 

La Navidad de Triana

La voz del terror

Se tomó el chocolate. Se levantó. Se dirigió a la barra a pagar. Allí escuchó una voz que la estremeció. No podía ser él. Se giró y lo vio. Sí, era él. El verdugo de miles de sus compatriotas. Se acarició los seis dígitos tatuados en su antebrazo derecho y recordó la barbarie nazi. Se salió de la fila y se sentó. No podía respirar. Después se levantó, cogió una silla y se la estrelló en la cabeza, una y otra vez, hasta que alguien logró detenerla. Lo observó en suelo, muerto, y pensó que por fin se hizo justicia. 

Fuente de la foto: Pixabay-Jacek Abramowicz

Sandalias abandonadas

Alguien se cansó de caminar y dejó estas sandalias en un agujero de una casa abandonada. Valdeande, septiembre de 2017

I killed you

Yes, I remember you. When we played in the streets running after your fantasies that they exploded it like the flowers in spring. When we flying ours kites, those with the soul of cane, that we wore with multicolored papers and that we pasted with potato baked . When we played on our white tree, painting on the cobbled road. I later discovered was our particular version of baseball.

Yes, I remember you. When we built a large zip line, with a threadbare steel cable that we found in one of our ravines and we threw ourselves with an old bicycle handlebar. We spitting to danger in the face. When, with that stinky mattress, we threw ourselves down the slopes of the barranco de La Ballena in search of speed and the adrenaline us came out through the pores.

Yes, I know, I killed you.

Now I look for you in the memories. Is all I have left, to plunge into the depths, to give you a hand and to be the child I once was. The one who from time to time touches me at the door and asks me, do we play?

Image source: Pixabay 

Esperando para partir

Las barcas siempre están dispuestas para partir. Playa de Las Canteras. Agosto de 2017.

Size does matter

I'm not going to talk about SEX. I'll tell you about the size of your blog posts on Steemit or any other platform.

Before getting into the subject, I would like to tell you that more important than size is knowing what we are going to say. You have to be clear, because that will help us to be more effective, direct and not entangle ourselves with what we want to say. Do not tangle up. Don't write a gibberish that nobody will understand.

For that reason it is important to make a preliminary scheme. A kind of script of what we want to tell, where it is clear, the planning, development and conclusion.

It is also important to be clear about the title of your entry, which will be direct, clear and not too long, no more than 67 characters.

Having said that, we are going to the heart of the matter.

There is a lot written about the matter. What size does a blog entry have to have?. That is, what number of words does an entry have to have to have a greater impact on our potential readers?

My method when I write an entry is based on these two premises:

The first is the number of words I will use. These words have to allow me to tell what I want to tell.  No more and no less. It is worthless to adjust to 1000 words and that the message of the article does not arrive clearly.

The second is, once satisfied with the content, reduce it as much as possible. Make an effort of synthesis. Without sacrificing, at all, the content.

I know, from experience, that texts of more than 2000 words are not very attractive. We must also say that every day we have less time. We only read only what interests us. If what interests us is well counted and in a concise way, then better. Baltasar Gracian said: "The good, if brief, is twice as good; and even bad, if a brief, not so bad. "

Therefore, and to conclude, I would  recommend you  that your entries be between 400 and 900 words. From my point of view, that is the ideal number for your entries to be read completely and reach the largest possible number of readers. Without forgetting, of course, what I told you before, that you are more than satisfied with the content, that you have used the right number of words to say what you wanted to say.

I hope this post was useful for you.

This text has 432 words.

 Image source: Pixabay

La lectura es la llave del conocimiento

La lectura es sin duda el mejor camino para alcanzar cualquier conocimiento; sin la lectura nos acercamos más a las cavernas. Las Palmas de Gran Canaria. Septiembre de 2017.

El chocolate de Selena

A ella le gustaba su chocolate y perdía la cabeza por él. Su aroma salía por su ventana, a eso de las cinco, los martes y los jueves, mientras duraba el frío. Ella bajaba, se detenía ante su puerta y olía el cacao, entonces escuchaba las palabras mágicas de Selena:

—Pasa, Marta María. 

Abría la puerta y, al abrirla, sentía como el aroma del chocolate la invadía por completo, la excitaba y la transformaba. 

Se sentaba y, antes de saborear el chocolate, soñaba con sus caricias y sus besos, con ese amor imposible que nació con el primer sorbo del chocolate de Selena.

 Fuente de la foto: Pixabay

La vida se abre paso

Esta pequeña lagartija tiene su pata encima de la papa, esperando a que me vaya para hincarle el diente. Le habrá gustado su sabor salado. La Palma, octubre 2017.

The robber of the crisis

He entered with a balaclava that covered his entire face, with a shopping cart and a airgun and he shouted:

 —Nobody move! Whoever moves, I will shot her between eyebrow and eyebrow. I do not want any nonsense, huh ? I have a very restless finger. I want not be that any one ends up in a box of finnish pine without having it planned.

The situation was aggravated . The security guard raised the  walkie-talkie and tried to call the central. But met the look of the robber who said him:

 —You, kid, do not to be play the brave. The cemeteries and crematoriums are full of man brave. Turn off the  walkie-talkie , put it on the ground and throw it at me here.

The security guard did not think twice and did what he said the robber.

 —Well, I see that we are all understanding the matter. I want to leave early and without problems. If we all do what is in the script we will get a great movie and we can gain the Oscar.

The thief looked around. He went to one of the shelves on which were all thrillers and told one of the employees:

—Put them all in the shopping cart, without leaving one. I'm watching you . I do not want to have a problem with you.

The employee looked at him bewildered. He put all the books dedicated to policial novel into the shopping cart until he filled it.

The robber looked at all establishment customers and argued:

—Do not look at me in amazement. I know that it is rare for a robber to steal books, but some have their hobbies and their vices. I am an inveterate reader. This terrible crisis leads anyone to do unthinkable things until yesterday at three o'clock. You do not know how well you spend it reading, while I wait for them to call me from unemployment. Unemployment is less unemployment and the crisis less crisis.

Without saying more, he ran down the street, with the shopping cart full of books while at the mall they could not believe what they saw.

Image source: Pixabay 

Duel

Yesterday, you went following his memory, 

because your heart broke into a thousand pieces, 

and you did not know where to put the pieces, they fell out of your hands 

and they rolled down the street like broken toys 

that nobody wants.

You did not expect the black boat to arrive so fast, 

because you still felt his hands, you had his smiles, 

you had his kisses and his caresses, 

but the boat arrived at your beach 

and you stayed on the rock, drinking your tears, 

eating your pain; You knew that he would never go back.

You told me it with the dead look, 

trying to hold on you to my hand, 

looking for a breath to cling you to life, 

to continue to breathe in fits and starts, while you swallowed you the pain and his oblivion, 

but you could not and the anguish and sadness overcame you, 

they gagged you and they were drown you

and you let you go to where the universe is born.

Now I am alone, without you and without him, and I have to get up,

trying not to sink in my tears,

in the quicksand of despair,

to take a step, lift your feet from the mud,

that I have them sunk to the knees,

one step and then another, one step and then another,

and not think about you or him to continue living.

Image source: Pixabay