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Early memories.

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"Hi It's me". That's what you always said when you used to call me. The velvet angelic voice that broke the silence of those lonely winter days. Your voice was like a disguise, an invisible coat which disguised many mysteries that collaged into one big jigsaw, which could have simply be defined as your lifestory. Although I had been knowing you for a long time, I had never managed to aquaint with your deepest feelings. Not that I blame you, or me for that; there is an old Chilean saying that states that it takes a lifetime to understand a woman, and another lifetime to learn how to deal with her. As I stand in my bedroom staring at the surroundings, I remember the past times in which our relationship was fluorishing, when one of your smiles would irrigate my empty mind with happiness and comfort. I had been spending a prolonged period of time In Latin America, visiting my family. I was anxious to see my relatives again, and apart from occasional spalshes of sadness and tears sheded in states of semi-unconciousness you didn't seem to resent much from my departure. ...read more.


As the small truck accelerates, I gradually see my little neighbourhood with its palms and markets disappear in the distance, like a dye when mixed with water. The empty and recently built road, melts in with the sea and the surroundings giving the passengers on the vehicle the impression of living in a surrealist painting. Small drops of sweat fulgidly run down my forehead; as a gust of wind blows away a jasmine flower I had picked up on the way, it brings to my mind a wave of memories just like the river brings the detritus to the sea. I lean against a flower bag in the corner of the back of the truck, and you come to my mind again. It was the first few days, I had been guest to this new and alien country. Everything I saw I found peculiar, from the side on which english people drove on the road, to their unusual tradition of having dinner at five o'clock. As I stared in the eyes of these local people, I could only see ice and a melancholycal emptyness, which I wondered if was their nature or their response to my arrival. ...read more.


Between the smiles and tears of which gave colour to this past year, I barely had time to reflect upon how sometime this will have to end. Now in between dream and reality, this idea comes back to me bringing along sadness and desolation. I wonder if you are thinking the same thing in this times I was out of the country. Out of nowhere a hand taps me on the shoulder and a voice says: " If you truly believe in a moment it will last forever." I immediately open my eyes, and see Roberto smiling at me. Apparently I had been talking during my dream, and he had heard everything I had said. His arm approaches me again, and I notice the contrast of his brown skin being burned from the sun with the white shirt he was wearing. We had arrived to the jungle; one last time my thoughts and doubts rush into my mind, before our little group of kids start working on the first row of palms delimiting the known world from the mysterious and intriguing jungle. ...read more.

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