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‘People have a thirst to learn about other people’s lives—to know what the old chincuales did—learn something, although they aren’t prepared to jump through the same hoops themselves. The word chincuales, said Augusto Guerra, like all the words in the Mexican tongue, has a number of senses. First, it means flea or bedbug bites, those little red welts, you know? Those cracks in the psyche. The water tasted different—’

‘He was sitting under a larch—smoking w/ absent look on his face. You’ve changed a lot—she said. He recognised her instantly. You haven’t, he said. Thank you, she said. You should stay—It’s too late to go. There aren’t any more trains—he lied. All that exists, or remains, of Duchamp’s stay in Buenos Aires is a readymade—his whole life—readymade—his way of appeasing fate—all Duchamp did—in Buenos Aires was play chess’

No pude seguir por un fallo técnico del audiolibro 😭😭😭 voy a ver si hoy lo puedo solucionar