Weakening
Women were swimming in the nude. The water, they said,
slides nicely around the breasts. The kids were getting angry
easily, they threw stones in the water. Old men stole
some glances from behind the blinds. Outside, in the garden,
the dried-up fountain and the green-faded benches. a few
sparrows sauntered in their point of freedom. Later, the women
would return; the iron gate would creak; the birds stayed
motionless, as if something was lost, something deep and
deserted. Then again, the endless competition could start
the spite, the comparisons. Large moist towels sat
heavily on the garden clothesline. A pair of black glasses was
forgotten on the white gravel next to the footmarks of wet
soles already drying out.
Libros Libertad 