THEN11t0303

(if by any chance you missed the beginning of the greatest event of 2011, you can start reading it here, where the first lerrnstory starts)

and from my point of view, which is vaste, lowermost on its small amplitude of being only the outside of joe, here i am hearing the bells of the cathedral, and you ask yourself or after all ask me what is the purpose of the cathedral on this story, and i see the cathedral as a new moment of abstraction, trapped in the alleys where i am, i follow someone like so many others follow me, and the gentleman, short hair under a fancy hat, looking suddenly i would say he is around 60 years, may have more or less but the facial aspect, the body itself, advises us to come and we go inside, en esta parroquia de santiago fue bautizado picasso el 10 de noviembre de 1881.
on the side, a lady sells almonds being so many produced in the region, behaviours adopted during centuries or otherwise more recent attitudes created for spontaneous commerce taking profit of touristic conglomerates. fashion, but what is fashion if not only the behavior, the habit to cut and after that cut the behavior, and going back to writing we go back to the old behavior, new letters that repeat what so many others already said and so many others already contested.
so, let’s go back to our story, what is really difficult to me because i don’t know anything of the story not even of the sequence, i remind joe was there without keys of the room or with keys that could not open the door they should open, and it seems to me the woman opened the door because she heard some noise from the outside of it, and opening it she said to joe, scared, you scared me.
and joe must have said, or in this case i said it, what i told you above. what in this case, maybe you don’t find funny but not less than myself, because i tell you after all what i said and it simply is what you told me to say, so it should be me asking you why am i saying what i say when after all is you who truly knows the reason, and i simply imagine the reasons.
going back, i try to support myself on some aspect i can use to follow ahead on this story which seems to not have beginning or end, what is probably true like all true stories, there’s in history no story that really starts, all restart or repeat themselves.
it was good that joe’s wife opened the door, considering he had one mojito in each hand, well seen it was indifferent because he already tried to open the door, and to do it he used the usual system of who is used to do this kind of stuff, that means, one hand holds one glass and one finger of the same hand holds the other glass against the first one, being elegant to offer the glass held by the entire hand, with the hand always external to the glass, even if like in this case the glass was offered to the wife, what is not so much important but doesn’t mean it’s less elegant to keep to the owner of the finger the glass that kept a finger inside.
if joe could know what i know, wouldn’t have come to that door. he would have climbed to the superior deck and would have crossed to the back, where, without needing to go down, he could notice the show his wife was offering to the sun, on the exact moment when he, or if you prefer you and me, we arrived, and we scared her, but that show she never dared to show him, not even in the most intimate moments they mutually discovered, she never confessed him that pleasure for the dance, where she left the body evolve graciously at the sound of the sun rays, and to them she greatly expanded in waves, bows and twirls, the sun was burning at its highest strength of august but to her he couldn’t touch, just scraped slightly with its musical notes, her hairs, the hands and feet, the arms, forearms, all areas exposed or even those more covered on a thin blanket of several colors, sometimes, between a volte, felt the hug and the kiss each ray brings, or it was better this way, without knowing joe may hear the sermon on the front door, you scared me joe, you don’t understand me, or is it you who is never going to understand me, thought his wife, arriving at this moment from a shameful orgy of tastes where is hidden lover would never be discovered, or at least that was what she was thinking.

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