It's Saturday afternoon. The sky on Saturdays is mute, but resplendent. Below, in this convulsive thing that we call humanity, runs through the multitude of schedules, emotions, hunches. I feel like listening closely to that melody by Lisette Álvarez “One more Saturday, about Puerto Rico, one more Saturday…”
The Older Man (HME), twice as old as his Young Virtual Friend (JAV), talked to anyone else about those issues... or, perhaps, no one stopped balls at him! —I don't even treat them with the members of my family, always busy, therefore, without time to cross words, except for one or another favor... which I do quickly and as best as possible to return to my writing desk —HME snorted on the other side of the cell phone
