pearls around the neck 69
After looking for it all day in vain, I leave the house, to avoid encountering her reproachful look, her
hateful voice.
All of our previous happiness has vanished and it is useless to think it will return. But we cannot be
separated either. This evasive period is binding us, filling us with bitterness and annoyances, devouring
the beautiful earlier moments one by one.
I only hope that sometime, by chance, it will appear, lost in a pocket, among other objects. Then it will
be a fat, mourning, dirty and dusty period, placed at the wrong moment, as we novice writers do…
Author: Cynthia Jaramillo, Ecuador, 2007
English translator: Jorge L. Lucero
Illustration: Tim Gallo
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