mariconada all day trying to work, trying to rest, trying to read. can not everything. feeling lost day, some bad conscience. remaining four books, rest a while tomorrow is Monday ...
I was hooked on the reading of Novelife Loca, de Elvira Rebollo. impatient for arrived. the start and now I want it to end. the'm savoring. read as if for the first time made me laugh, and has managed to raise my spirits. Stoner seemed brilliant, absolutely extraordinary Child, János Hay, and this has me Loca captive. good-good, from beginning to end. around you.
... "A September 16 left me cold front of our house in Lyon, after done the weekly shopping at Carrefour. Under French phlegm escolfriante assured me it was best for me, two weeks after she confessed, in solf the room, which was called Severine, who had known before the summer, and that he loved because he ran marathons and made trips to Africa. One week was enough to pack all my things, put them in the car and started to reach my parents' house in Bilbao. I put the soul in your pocket when, at two o'clock, my mother opened the door and hugged me.
Cruz Blanca I entered, I saw Marieta asking at the bar. We had seen since almost two months but it was a warm reunion. He looked at me and hugged me tenderly, come, little one, come. We sat on a tall table, she with a bottle of water and I was a linden. Little by little they were getting all that fondly kissed me and quietly asked me what the hell had happened. Despite not having put sugar in the lime, I was removing the entire hour while I heard about this and that. The anxiety came from inside me, squeezed my stomach to not let her out, sip of lime, clink of teaspoon in a cup almost empty and bitter worm up the windpipe me, I needed air. I missed the pain without realizing it, they shut up, I squeezed the guts to calm down but ended up throwing up my sadness tears. "
Novelife Loca. Elvira Rebollo. Baile del Sol 2011.
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