Tía María

«His name was Maria. She was the second wife of my father's uncle.

Yesterday I went to see her as I used to do since she became widowed by my father's uncle.

I go to the sites without anyone accompanying me

I missed a friend this morning.

When I have seen two guys walking, well wrapped, chatting, laughing, I realized that I have to go out alone. Yes, I have acquaintances and here where I rest now they are all very friendly, but friends what is said friends, not even one.

Grey area

I am becoming tenderer, more delicate. I admit it. At the same time that I´ve ageing I´ve losing testosterone and I think a little more in people now. A word I´ve just learnt is empathy; maybe what I´ve lost from my horlicks I´ve attained in empathy. Therefore I can´t be impassive about some injustices.

The poet of the piano

I´m learning to read and write and I like to do it on my own. All help is very welcome

      My lady had a piano. She used to play it when she was young. All instruments have their own voice but the piano . . . The piano seems that has all the voices in its 85 keys. White keys voice, the voice of black keys.