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As túas balas » Mafra

Arquivo de tags

norte

O domingo pillo o público na praia do tamariz e poño proa ao norte. Antes apaño uns pasteliños de Belén pra senalcume e extravíome na marxinal lisboeta. Despois pazo de mafra, coa súa biblioteca inzada de beleza e morcegos. Tradúzolle a visita a uns parisinos e imaxino a última noite de manuel II en portugal, durmindo na cama da raíña, como home dobremente desprazado. Enfío rotondas e rotondas: nas beiras, hai ciscados montes de tomates que caeron dos tratores ao viraren, e esmágoos cos pneumáticos. Logo mosteiro de Tomar, aínda máis extraordinario ca mafra. Figos á saída. Quilómetros e quilómetros de curvas, semáforos que se pechan nas aldeas, limitacións de velocidade. Ovos-moles en Guimaráns. Condución senil dos tugas que me preceden. Solporiza e fáiseme noite en braga, cando procuro letreiros pra pontedelima. En ponte de lima procuro en van letreiros pra valenza. E despois, cando pillo estradas máis coñecidas, atácame o home do saco. Resisto os combates. Despois descanso.