Surely sees far away both the years of hunger and the where fear begins its silent procession. And lower bus complaining of a heavy old who told war stories. Your friends will understand although perhaps not so much his father, who will walk in a parallel universe with one unknown. I have already told him that my mother was the smarter planet muje look daughter is that she knew that during the day we had hardly eaten and that you ringing the casings cannot be slept. She put the cooker at night (in my village put the cooker was makes a stew with what you would understand, no?) as we sat there nine: my six siblings, my parents and my grandmother, the probecilla, in front of the soupy dish with a chickpea punao and once a piece of cod pa divided. It is not that removed us hunger but to have something warm in the stomach us acostabamos and slept as a few blessed. And to thanks to the wit and wisdom of women from that girl then click your stop and some anguish man is reflected in the face of him.

Not only the hunger is concerned. NI Neither is only uncertainty how will work almost two years more, until the 67, to be able to retire if just endures many years standing uploaded to the scaffolding. It is perhaps the hunger of other things. The hunger to understand death ahead of time; the days where eats a can of tuna despite having the fridge filled. Little tenderness that contemplates the movement of young people and what little of his mother sees no woman since hers died. It is the hunger of magic that stalks him.

He who has no studies, never denied a small conversation to his neighbour, as he saw always make to the people of his village. I am sure despite not having seen him. Ten cuidao with puddles when you go down, daughter, that since it is raining in Seville, is filling up the ambulatory people with things partias the bus door opens. The girl says an until then that seems a slam. Don yonosequien and I us shrink to resist the coup. And when it seemed that despair was going to eat me alive, the driver turns, complicit smiles me and fills me with green dots as the traffic lights. Then I changed my place to tell yonosequien that in my town to sleep warm, grandmothers prepared some pulleys with flour, water and the low-sugar that could be achieved. Because if mothers were Magas grandmothers were the fairies of tales, who knew that a child sleeps better with something sweet in the belly. Pulleys recipe ingredients: To fry olive oil bread fried bread squares picatoste Matalahuga two teaspoons (green anise) cinnamon in branch Peel lemon sugar five tablespoons flour 4 tablespoons ground cinnamon rooms three milk to taste preparation is fie bread in olive oil and set aside. Put in a Bowl a chorreoncito of oil from frying pan, add the matalahuga beans, milk, lemon peel and put to the fire. Before breaking to boil remove the majority of the grains of matalahuga with a colander, no matter are some, add the flour, the sugar and stir until it thickens once thick add bread fried remove and put into dishes add for high ground cinnamon. It must not be already too thick that later will be very hard.