He did not walk to smell the eucalyptus trees or to hear trills or feel the fresh air on his skin, in his lungs. The movement of water, in any ditch, was his dream factory.
Leave this world and go back to being a girl feeling the freshness in her bare feet.
There are ditches with litters and there are abandoned, dry, buried by several layers of tar. She knows them all.
In the corner, next to their house, a mystery that went unnoticed by adult eyes, had astonished all the girls of the town and, like brave soldiers, one summer of lots of water they invaded a part of the canal and carried out organized surveillance, of sun to sun. Lacking the means to take photographs, they took turns drawing the changes of those rare fish, day after day.
Among the fresh water of the spring were fairies whose magic was to turn their tails into legs, their silence into a high-pitched, joyous croak. San Antonio frogs that even today give them luck.
Incubators of green smiles that watch over and transport life.
