
Winter Wine
I love autumn terracotta colours. Yet, when winter approaches it comes by the hand of a cold whitish whisper. Both like to settle softly around the whole island. I resent them, I resist them as much as I can.
Read MoreI am a lawyer, a ferocious reader who also loves to write. Expect some book reviews, storytelling and more…
I love autumn terracotta colours. Yet, when winter approaches it comes by the hand of a cold whitish whisper. Both like to settle softly around the whole island. I resent them, I resist them as much as I can.
Read MoreMy Stories
‘The tea bags are not for those who truly like to drink tea’, —only the smelly, fresh leaves is what gives the flavour to the tea. —She used to say—. ‘Once the tea leaves are secured in the cup, add the boiling water. Be careful! The water must not surpass the middle of the cup. Wait until the transparent liquid gets impregnated with the dark colours of the leaves and you feel the soft smells of the tea, then add the exact quantity of milk, not more, not less. Serve immediately and take it to where I am’.
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How elusive love could be. It goes from here to there, from there to here, from here to there. You can sit and see it come and scape back again like simple spectators on a tennis match. Or you could go after it, tumbling down and knocking others down, like if it were a rugby game. In any case it would be difficult to catch.
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8:30 am today, I had only five minutes to get to school that is only a few meters away. They are insuperable meters when you have to feed, bath and dress three young children. Then the counting starts before putting them on, six gloves, three wool hats, three scarves, six socks. Each of them tiny and elusive, always forgotten in every corner of the house.
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Why is it that the romance languages are so agreeable? Because they sound like a singing melody compared with other languages that could sound dry as an autumn leaf. It is the vocals, the ones we found so abundantly in romance tongues, as if they were fruits swimming in a colourful salad. They fill every word up to the top, by softening the rudeness and aggressiveness of the consonants. Romance languages have dignity. They would never allow two consonants in a word without a vocal guiding them, telling them what to do. And this is how all the brutal force gets to be mitigated by this syrup that intoxicate of those who listen to it.
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It was him who gave me this book. Paris. He knows how I feel about Her. Looking at his eyes I sadly understood that this gift was only a gentle gesture towards that love that he will never support. I understood that eventually I would have to choose between him and Her. Irreconcilable differences keep them apart from one another. He thinks She is dirty, dangerous and without great beauty. Overrated and a thief, She abuses the innocents who come to Her looking to fulfil a dream and She pays them back with a treason. So unpleasant She is, that not even the ocean would like to be next to Her.
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This review has no spoilers but a recap of my favourite tales. Everyday life magnificent stories!
Says Alice Munro in the introduction to her book that once a story is published she cannot read it again, not even can she remember the details that someday gave the story its shape.
Read MoreIf there is something I find difficult is to make a description of myself. For me, the best way is cutting layers from outside into the inside. Let’s see: I think I am an average woman of 1.67 cms high, brown hair and eyes. Nothing much nothing less. However, I was always skinny as an arrow. You must be thinking ‘how lucky is she?’ or ‘yes, now what?’ but be mindful that I was growing up in the 80s in Colombia, the country of the beautiful curvy-perfectly-measured women! So it was not always fun. I should say being all bones and skin brought me trouble at school as a lot of jokes were directed at my appearance -from constant questions about the state of my health to some comparisons at cartoons and so on- so, for the first 18 years of my life, I focused my efforts in trying to enlarge my body.
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