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As túas balas » Blog Archive

gris
Érgome cedo na casa de gradicela, en ribeira. Mentres eles acaban os últimos detalles de vestirse e calzarse, eu almorzo na fiestra. Fóra debe haber algo como mar, dun gris escuro, pero non consigo diferenciar onde acaba e onde comeza un ceo gris, que xoga coa brétema gris que sobe da ribeira, cos fumes grises das chemineas e cos grises montes que, creo, son aquilo que semellan siluetas.
Non hai nin media nostalxia. Só unha tremenda pesadez gris sobre os ombros.


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