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Sunday, February 5, 2023

Christmas Eve

Guatemalan altarpiece of wonders

It was a gruel that got muddy on some papers and some papers to which a sawdust stuck and that, already wrinkled, became mountains. They were little white stones that were roads and river basins. It was a mirror that was a lake where a swan bigger than him sat. It was a moss that ran along the banks and in its path hid the pots. They were hidden pots that were forests and jungles and splendid nature.
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Why did I stop being a child?

With longing I remember those moments of uncontrollable laughter that caused me stomach aches. I thought time was running slowly. But the reality is that time ran out for my childhood, and with his departure he dragged loved ones and dreams...
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