There had to be a way to fit me into the clock of your life. You had appeared behind the sandwich cart, in the belly of the steel bird, the day I went to Madrid […]
Category: Fiction
There’s a man who writes just beginnings. Small texts for great novels. Each story flows from a concise point, exact in all its narrative geographies, to materialize further ahead; in a novel, a play, a photograph, a pain or just in silence.
I want you more than the street
Who would have thought a few weeks ago that we would be forbidden not only to go out into the street but to have any physical contact with another human being? It’s ironic to realize […]
