![]() ![]() We all raise our faces and look at a heavy, black cloud passing overhead and think: ![]() I gaze further back and see no one and so, I tell myself: “We’re four.” A while ago, at around eleven, we were twenty-something but, little by little they’ve been scattering until only our small knot is left. I count us: two walking in front and two behind them. Faustino, Esteban and I are traveling with him. One of us looks up at the sky, gazing towards the hanging sun, and says: Right now it’s about four in the afternoon. You can hear dogs barking, sense the smell of smoke in the air and taste the odor of people as if it were hope. I sometimes think, in the midst of this edgeless road, that it’s going nowhere that nothing could exist on the other side, at the end of this plain, cracked with crevices and dry streams. Translated by Guillermo Calvo Mahé (Translation © Guillermo Calvo Mahé Ocala, Florida, 2006 all rights reserved)Īfter hours and hours of walking without finding any shade at all, not from a single tree or a single seedling or even anything’s roots, we hear the sound of dogs barking. ![]() Originally published in Pan (de Guadalajara), Nº 2, July, 1945. ![]()
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