Status Updates From Los árboles caídos también ...

Qué impresionante primer cuento!

I recognised her way of walking, as if nothing were weighing her down, neither her body nor time nor that thing we all accumulate the way you accumulate old bits of junk in a cupboard you never open.

A very old god creating man. He shapes him from mud and breathes into him. And finally he tiesa little piece of darkness to his feet that he calls ‘shadow’.

(02/08)

(01/08)

(31/07)

Sato the soldier digs and sometimes a memory passes by, neither pausing nor hurrying, as though simply gliding. He just looks at it. A passing cloud.