was something melancholy floating in the afternoon. It rained sideways. The wind ruffled the trees swaying branches reluctantly as saying hello or goodbye, while the mist in the air drew question marks. However, she smiled. He crossed his garden with tiny steps, unsure, until the mailbox. There were no surprises. When opened on black found without stamps, sender or any direction. Only your name written in white letters ... like every Wednesday.
lovingly gathered on protecting the rain and left in another mailbox also unsealed and whose only sign was a hand painted star , as well tousled by the wind. Like every Wednesday.
The ritual was fulfilled for decades. Neither remembered and how did this love so rare, that correspond unknown, that love each other by intuition. Were unknown at all, and knew by heart. They separated two oceans and a time change and so loved that his ... so unusual. Sometimes, in his letters, were arguing about who met whom, who wrote the first or exactly how it all began. Stories of their laughter, their lives and their love, waiting to finally meet in a more clear, more conventional, if you like ... more real. It promised to kiss a day and sealed the deal to be happy in the meantime.
- this letter to you makes sense of my Wednesday. No one writes letters. If anything electricity bills and just some warning pregnant with bad omens, "he said Pablo each week and disappeared on his motorcycle left a postman always in the air a poem or a song.
fulfill that covenant of love, had a full and happy life, three husbands, seven children and a cat. Always refused to leave his house with a garden that, with the secret intention to always be ready to receive, in due course, the unmentionable visit never left waiting.
A year basis, life and happenings, he was disrupting the normal perception of things. Organized afternoon coffee, dominoes and liquor unlikely guests, sitting around the same round table to historical or invented dead relatives for years and others yet unborn, along with spectra outsiders who joined the evening provided the last minute. Dobladitos it was his socks in the fridge, the cat food in your cup of tea and suddenly stop to have surprised the foot of the bed not knowing if you had to get up or is that going to bed. And then, he panicked.
I was afraid not to recognize his unusual love the day they finally appeared, and in a moment of clarity, neck hung a small sign as a reminder to always rested on his chest and said thus
"Kissing Mr. Hat will appear one day in the garden with a star pinned to his lapel."
disheveled That rainy afternoon, prepared to enjoy the anonymous letter to her lover as did the first time, sitting by the fireplace with your cat lap, like every Wednesday. Outside, the wind and the mist drew an asterisk in the air ... while some uncertain steps approaching his garden after crossing two oceans and a tireless time change.
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