📱 eBook en inglés SOMEONE TALKS ABOUT LOVE

“I move toward you, amidst the commotion of this hostile city. Behind me, against the hill, the tall buildings with their vacant terraces and their wilted gardens are outlined. My steps are firm on the dark pavement. In my hand, a bouquet of violets wrapped in paper. Your postcard in my pocket. It’s nighttime and it doesn’t smell like ripe fruit on this steep street, where for a few minutes a perfect blend of scattered music can be heard. I clumsily recreate from memory your lips, your eyes and even your hands. A light rain falls on my shoulders and on the rooftops. My heart beats quickly beneath my thin coat, under which intangible strands of the voices from that dreamland of a concert we attended on Friday remain mysteriously imbued. I walk rapidly toward your arms, toward your kisses, alongside this desolate neighborhood.”