Se llama Víctor, me llamo Gisela. Extiendo la mano, él me la aprieta.

          Something has escaped through the night and entered my veins, that's what goes through my mind when I go out and see you and “beautiful night” leaves my mouth.

          Strange weather creeps in on the 15th night of August in Baker County, Florida. No weather channel reports of its arrival — so much for our plans. It doesn't matter how much we anticipate the day and what will be of it. Sometimes, quite simply, things change beyond our wishes.

          In this picture we stand in a ditch, on a path that fellows and families take to distract themselves and their feet from the diurnal affairs before nightfall — by then they begin to settle and finally, rather than put it off, they can dream.

Un señor viejito pasa con su carrito de compras y bien puesto su sombrerote. En su carrito lleva los jitomates y el epazote. Bajo la sombra de su sombrero toma cuidadosamente cada pasito, y sobre él ¡El solesote!

Te voy a pintar un retrato de una tarde en que veníamos caminando:

2:11 pm