Stripped Fuselage Piper Azteca

El Patio Encantado (sixth issue)

VI

"When the unclean spirit out of man,

goes through arid places seeking rest;

finding none, he says: "I will return to my house whence I came."

(Luke 11:24)

and I thought we were facing. I decided to ignore it. Not mine. I had never been mine, nor I to him.

Behind me, the murmur of a nearby sea area told me that was mutated.

However, its bold insistence to be noted irritated me so much that I watched from the front straight.

I was so careless ...

Al scrutinize inside I noticed with astonishment in a kind of darkness that had never known. A strong sulfur smell kept me breathing and I felt very close to me as looking for accommodation. My stomach sank and I was involved with a blind terror and brutal. Then I remembered that it was a thought. "I will not be home."

I quickly turned towards the sea, sand foam curd, beach crabs traveled by sea water eyes. These so rare crabs concentrated in some kind of joint activity.

I followed his progress from a distance. We

and by geographical variations and some wounds I had belonged. They walked back over my scars, so campers. I note however that their eyes were fading in the delivery of one injury, as a kind of strange offering. Postpone the resolution of this problem when I grew up.

And I ran to meet my childhood.

my twelve years there were frolicking in a fountain filled with Forget Me Not. I was with them a trail of flowers then journeyed, soaked in Oblivion. He becomes a kind of castle. A reddish cobblestone courtyard toiled led to a large main room that looked out, afraid of the future who is spying on a past that has scheduled its present. I could see myself in a bright afternoon, sitting at a table on which lay stretched grapes of desire and the sweetness of love. Red wine was poured from one pot to the cup that held my hand for a black man, beautiful, I could see me laugh a smile that had something of an angel and a lot of animal, his gaze on me never ends and the conversation was like a talisman that all transmuting, it was a special love, ours.

As a logical consequence, that seemed to me eternal desktop.

A commanding voice led me traced back to a more advanced stage of that life, at a time that I was important to my growth ... "Please do not annoy me, I wanted to resist. But instead, I obeyed.

suddenly had read about forty years. She was alone.

The voice told me I was the last day of that life. "I can not," I replied, thinking unusually in crabs.

- Does he? Inquired the voice.

"Not me. I must have died when he was ... "I said. And I started to mourn. I want to go that afternoon ... "I pleaded. Not sure who or what, but it was obvious that he had given to someone or something in control.

-A party, want to go back for lunch? -Was surprised voice.

- It was not a party, was a desktop! "I protested. Give it back! "I implored, in tears.

"I loved a lot. Conjectured voice.

"It's not a question of space but of time," he reflected, overcoming sadness.

Indeed, there we were, once, but at the same place, he and I, dancing the Waltz of the Flowers, with a passion that nothing short of madness. That if it was such, was in a state of exaltation liable to be fought under the sign of imbalance. Although the dance was not visible.

"Yes. Because I loved too much. Bled as I wondered where were the damn crabs, my antidote.

The arrival of dawn broke the spell. I returned to the yard away from storm. The reality of the kitchen, strawberry jam, the mints and chocolate ice cream should be ready for that afternoon, which meet Augusta twenty years. I fit an apron with tears and sorrow did not recognize. Everything became a dream, last but not least, I undertook with the unexpected. And it is not expected, often suffer rejection.

My conclusion was that the freedom of spirit sometimes drag chains forged in the Underworld.

(To be continued ..)