El reponedor infernal

Se divierte con el sufrimiento del cliente que llega a la máquina, echa la moneda en la ranura y, de repente descubre que hay unas galletas de dieta delante de las cosas ricas. Un paquete, dos, tres, cuatro...¡¡no hay manera de llegar a lo que uno desea!

Maddening music

My heels over the pavement are the percussion of a song called stress. The beeps of the traffic lights are the blind´s Pied Piper of Hamelin, and the cars the melody for that stressful hymn known as everyday soundtrack. Maddening music. Daily concert of life. 

I almost run, accidentally, moved by the rythm of the speed, wishing to stop somewhere frozen of calm. Desires. Crazy desires of relax. 

Suddenly, my wish is granted and the strong noise of the engines is replaced by hypnotic sea waves. The smoke has disappeared blowed by a salty breeze that comes from an unknown place that I would like to reach soon.

-Magic exists- I think.

I have no doubt because the sky is blue again, after winning the fight against the grey. I mean that dark and sad grey that dominates the city even though I always smile to avoid it. That grey is at last over, and it must be at least a fairy affair.

The enchantment of the sea is guiding my steps with a delighting soft sound.

I extend my arms to touch nothing else than the air, I turn my palms trying to catch a bite more of that freedom that involves me while I forget the prison of the asphalt back to me.

Two faces of one same place: earth and water, pollution and nature, ying and yang of the world where I live, of the world where I walk always aimlessly.