I like the cafes because they often see life pass. I have some that have penetrated completely: there I witnessed a thousand stories, I have confessed and and also confident, and let me tell you that in the absence of a large table to work, that you only find in your study of life, those of coffees are the best place to take over your books, the wad of notes, write papers little by little as you arranging the ideas and saying look, this is my mouth. now write in coffee Dindurra. To my left steaming cup, glass of water, and in the mouth a Comans, decent copy when you have the cigars by hand. Julio, one of the waiters, young, something big, diligent. Back and forth between the tables and if you happen to give encouragement, it takes the issue seriously and talks as if he had years to know you. He lives alone, has a daughter that is still small with his mother away, because you know, when I took her left with her. To say I can see the sadness in his mask, the grin of nostalgia that seeps from within.
It's almost Christmas. I wonder what made these days, where it will go on Christmas Eve, and answers that will be in the room rent, swarming, imagining how the tiny receives, develops and then plays with the doll you are considering purchasing. A package, brother, if you see her fucking. One like no, no swanky gifts, no, I will send you the doll, buddy, wrist.
I said and noticed a stream of joy streaming down the sides. That enough, you just assume your kid is going to be happy. Has suffered, has bitten the dust, you know what is to be alone or sad, more dates when the majority gives to lessen hypocrisy or minus hysteria to artificially inflates daily hugs, kisses, because the occasion demands and give you give.
knowing I have time. To take a seat and deploy my war material comes with the usual: coffee and water. So I remain silent waiting open mouth. I know you want to babble, talk a bit about its history, present and future, the past that brought him to this city. Talks between coming and going, between orders of pizza and soft drinks, all raleas characters among higher beings or sons of bitches can not imagine what might be going on the waiter brings them yogurt and cookie front. Talks between ropes, at times, polite, cautious, dignified, as many would like patiquines you have to bump every day without exception.
Almost enough for your gift, I loose range. A little more, two or three days with tips and such, and the shipment will arrive just for New Year's Eve. How is this girl going to laugh, he says. For a moment he would say, here it is, bastard, something to the wrist because I want to share in those smiles, but I did, ie I did not dare. I promised him a gift, an ornament for the hair or something. And it was.
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