jueves, 13 de septiembre de 2012

amor y jamon


i love you something special

The other day he told me a story about him as a baby boy, and by a baby boy I mean he was probably about eight years old. I hope he doesn't mind that I share this story with you so I will call him Sebastian. Sebastian told me the story about how when he was eight years old his grandmum's last meal was a chorizo sandwich. She always took care of her figure and never allowed herself to eat that way so he found this to be quite odd, even at eight we notice these things that most people allow to pass them by. She took him to the park that day along with four of his cousins. Sebastian felt a very warm air from her, something he hasn't seen in so long. She was sad for what seemed his whole life and this was the first time he had seen her smile with her big brown eyes. Grandmum took the kids back home to their apartment in the middle of Madrid. She baked them a cake and gave them milk with their cake. She sang old religious songs loudly in the kitchen without a radio, without an instrument,  A cappella. The milk must've been drugged because the kids woke up hours later to a locked door and a screaming woman on the other side of the door. The screaming woman was his mum, and she was trying to instruct the children on how to open the door. Eventually they opened the door, they weren't allowed near the balcony that day and when they asked where their grandmum was there was a dark cold silence from mum. The entire neighborhood came into their home, and he still did not know what was the commotion and felt he was awake in a dream. Everyone around him was acting strangely towards him and it wasn't until he attended her funeral did he know he wouldn't ever see her again, at least not alive. 

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