The sun, the trees, the moon, the sea

       It was supposed to be easy. Are you cold? But sometimes I make it a bit difficult. I'm sorry. Luckily you laugh and you don't get angry, because you are smarter and less selfish than me. Are you still cold? Well, close your eyes for a minute.

  "Imagine a small creek, we'll have a drink. It's summer and the sun shines, it is the Catalan coast. We are calm, like anesthetized. We fall asleep watching the Tour de France, the typical stage in which Lance won the sprint with a second lead in the last breath hanging to his shoulders the yellow jersey. 

  Back to the snack bar, a swim, a chocolate ice cream and a game of table football. We play cards and we finish having a salad for dinner. We drink. We speak in silence. The moon, salt, your wet lips. I am thirsty and I order a drink and Spain was forthin the Championship.

 But we don't care, we will win the World Cup.  

 



   
  We go home. Time stops, the air doesn't run. You sleep by my side. Tired, happy, you ask me for a story and I'll tell you, or I'll made ​​it up.

 I explain that a child crossed the universe on a donkey with silver wings looking for a star named Renata who danced salsa with an asteroid named Julian Rodriguez de Malta. Evil, arrogant, traitor and outlaw. Known villain in the Milky Way. And you sleep.." 

 

  As always, we hug in this bed that is now full of blankets in this cold morning, cold, cold, frozen, frozen.