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En un lugar de Massachusetts, de cuyo nombre no quiero acordarme, no ha mucho tiempo que vivía un maestro de escuela de los de tiza en mano, rotulador rojo, moto flaca, y coche viejo. Una olla de steel cut oats, salpicón las más noches, huevos con bacon los sábados, lantejas los viernes, alguna hamburguesa de añadidura los domingos, consumian las tres partes de su hacienda. Tenía en su casa una señora de la limpieza brasileira que venía los lunes, y un vecino paliza que se le bebía hasta el agua de regar las plantas. Frisaba la edad de nuestro maestro con los cuarenta y algo; era de complexión recia, seco de carnes, enjuto de rostro, no muy madrugador y nada amigo de la caza.1

 

1, Gracias Don Miguel

Comments
  1. Eva Landeo says:

    Toni (do you still go by that name?),
    I am so sorry to read about your dad. My husband, Jag, and I were talking about your wonderful parents and we decided to search for your family since we hadn’t heard from them in so long. I emailed your dad a few years ago when my father died, but did not hear back and while it struck me as unusual at the time, I was busy helping my mom and didn’t dwell. Now I realize your family must have been digesting your father’s diagnosis. It must have been a very difficult time. I’m glad you were able to spend quality time with your father. He was really cool.
    We think of you all often. I’d love to get my mom in touch with your mom too. I hope you will get in touch.
    Muchos abrazos,
    Evita Landeo

    Like

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