Words To Say At The Funeral

The

To Love coward ...

Who the main entrance, looks as good, or stalls, or arregladita. Ruby Slippers, and mediecitas and satin and hat guantecitos apparent cordovan bag in his right hand, a fan in the left and measured pace, restrained and cautious. Anyone near him, that this woman is dangerous. My friend Javier, rest in peace, everything is going in this life, took the husband.

was as follows, I told the poor, very distraught. Well, not me, that children do not count and this from biblical times. But he told Fulvia, the Menda this, a perpetual memory of the thing.

One summer day like any other, came to my house, the Fulvia, played strong the door, shook his nose with a tissue and lounging in the chair that was my elder uncle, named Saint Toribio bad, who died in the times of the Greek Kalends, or the quarterback in time Robledo, when there was no paved road came to the square, still rang bells, doves flying over the eaves of houses and the shat freshly painted walls of the church of Jesus of Nazareth and Carmen Burgos is not yet walking with his bunch of cookies Turkish by the Calle del Carmen, but I talked latter and not repeat here. Well, right there in the same chair that he was telling them to come, who lived at the time I've been counting, staring at the tiled patio, a paradise of a thousand lichens, Javiera told who I appointed and My grandmother, his punishment and I, boy, dressed in blue, green camisole straps indigo opal and listening, dozing by the warm dampness of the three:

that it was of giggles that come and go, grab the tummy tea , a tickler for a little joke here and two-way there; to come visit you, friend, your home, and went to the fair I do not, what is that smell of sesame seeds that has me dizzy, do not leave me in pain without me try and see what tomatoes coolest bore the tomato in my garden. However, neglecting the Javiera on a Thursday, the big boob fell on their networks.

De Santa Fe, where decent people, this bad Pecora, rather, that one, who spoke before, or rather, after I spoke of the Javiera, took him to Aguadas is people whores, the whores. He put his house and gave him a good halter horse and supposedly for good chair strolled in the cool evenings, when the mountain does not seem hojarasquín. But it came out too loose quidam: no input weeded of the house, not the time of pavement, or get up early, which was rare, and answered the prayers at wakes, which were frequent, that the mob killed many. Until the very matrera bored.

When people returned it, returned it again, soon, to beg forgiveness. Javiera acquitted his man and showered him another frivolous fame. So christened Santa Fe, unforgiving, never forgave: "The Quitamachos."

Now I see happen. There goes one, down the street. And boy am and noon. The nalgatorio wag observed, and as used skirts, I turned to the evil thoughts, I have face planted a thousand volcanoes that sweep no princes. Fulvia says, my grandmother (last time I say it): Let's go harass the body. The face, will be ... And I laugh and I'm going to keep giving to the office every adolescent's favorite.

going without a hat, head to wind, no gray, the streets deserted as January morning, but still tough meat and eases movement. Quitamachos, then tell him with hatred in my silence, from the depths of darkness noon, hidden behind the grille and sill with elegant frieze of the old house. Quitamachos, her chest hurt cry, in unison with society that censors my madness, the madness, spontaneity of love.

Quitamachos, Quitamachos and I face in disgust at her in my fantasies, where I always win and go up.

When I left school, then to the right and left of the village, home of Fulvia, cool corridors and large windows. In the above not see her again. One hour was added to another, day to day, week to week, month to month, year to year and aged.

why now I'm years and I'm bad and I understand you do not come, Quitamachos, and you take away you to myself? My class prejudices, fears of my education rude, yelling screaming and never drowns out the crying now. Because yes, Quitamachos, I could not wait for you.