This evening, waiting for they were eight, I wandered for several hours to Barcelona. Maybe it's the largest of anonymity. Walking through the streets, subway, the bus of a big city, no one sees you.
I bought a book back to leave home to read on the train and thought that if I liked you present it to him someday.
When you reach Plaza Catalunya, a tall man in a trench coat great walking shoes and passengers between the river seeking the surface. I thought it looked like you in a few years, the same gesture tired shoulders, slightly shorter coat the back, making less to throw a good tailor, and straight hair, like yours, although quite gray. I wanted to overtake, but I've been afraid to see her face if you were really in a few years.
walking beside a woman with curly white hair, which was more petite and more cheerful than he. Just when I wondered what kind of relationship they had, and if they really go together, have been holding hands starting to talk, especially her, something cheerful.
I smiled imagining that one angel, as I have time to lose, was orchestrating the situation to conform to my thoughts.
by deciding to leave the place slowing down suddenly and to my surprise, I realized that he was holding the same book I had bought a while ago. Held him in a strange way, with fingers clamp mode looking down rather than embrace it with the palm of his hand, as I've ever seen done to you. I noticed his right arm like a pendulum, swinging the book to the rhythm of its calm but huge strides. And then I understood everything, like laughing at myself, of course it was you! In fact, you and I were in another 18 years.
Everything we see in our minds!
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