23 maio 2013
Some nights when she lay in bed , she imagined her way through R.'s day. Other nights she went through what S's could have been. She could see them doing the regular things. She could picture R. with that tender smile looking behind his old Pentax K100 lens going to the middle of the peasantry life and capturing a men with his hoe working the land above his feet and she could picture S, laying beside him where the sun's blaze touched her body the best, seizing it the prettiest way anyone could.
The thought of her getting close to them again felt more like trying to design a time machine using only the things on her kitchen. She had no idea how to go about it and no faith that such a thing could be done.