Two rooms

She's in the smallest room; perhaps those old days have been lost, her hair brushes the scent breeze of spring, when window doors are opened as if the wind was the nervous hands of her lover. Here, we can face the images in the different mirrors of the room; in any image we won’t find the same woman. The first picture is dark; can something special worry her? Would be the sinister silence of the other room, feeding by the mutual distrust which has increased the last times?
She continuously asks herself about the common actions that have described their lives; the rhythmic cries of young footballers that didn’t like lose a second, the idle unmentionable discoveries, the desperate mother’s voices that needed taking control of the unknown games of their children.

Who is then, her disturbing neighbor?, Should she understand that life from this, this, this, .. Infantile history.

"I found a new throne, some years ago, but I'd decided to forget it, when I discovered its imperfections. Today, I'm reading the Bridaespuela Duke history and his friend, Mister Dodgson, Redonda's earl; it's not a petty question, when I can state that my friend, John Riverword duke had sailed with this discovering word farmhand. There was a World in the middle of that small river. Could someone imagine its river banks full of Dragons?

John, for longtime, was the river guest who gave the new bird and nature names. Had the waves been surfed before for?.

Piranio, the dragon had suddenly appeared; long hairs, immaculate clothes, blown eyes and longilineous hands, ready to take firmly the rudder, an unknown weapon on the hands of those scientific names. His couple supported the contact between the lack of communication and the human voices


Why that Queen of herns had taught a new language?..

Would it be that little clumsy child the same person that wrote without sense?. She, those days, didn't never find his eyes?