At reunion

"When I was a child, my dad tried to forget me at his house with his new family", said Robert when she had came to his home to forget the hours with a few of chocolate, "He married, again, with a new girl, she was younger than him, more than you, my friend, obviously in that time".
Sarah, the mate of Robert, drank chocolate and experimented the advantages of being the new girl at school. A new meat for the wolves and the tigers. New meat, delicious. But when she appeared on his life, she thought that Robert was disaster as student: not intelligent, nor handsome and nor interesting guy. Not and nor: hers favorite words. But the poverty of her spirit was a line which divided the reality and hers feelings, real feelings as cry for somebody. "Oh! But the new wife was pretty, intelligent, didn't she?", said Sara and understood her mistake. Idiot saying that X is better than mom. But where mother was, who was she?
"The new girl was... er... the new wife, obviously younger and nice body than my mom, but when you've cried for somebody for a long time, the clouds don't have a real meaning", Robert stopped his speech and saw the Sarah's face "my mom was killed by sadness".

"My uncle wrote poetry", said Sarah to Robert, "he believed in a nice and lovely God who lived on his blood, done with his blood". Robert took her hand. A poet like him, a life poet. But God done with blood, that sounded different. Not like the green God who lived in the drus of his mate, Peter the white donkey 
"Why did your uncle think about that?"
"Because his life was bored and his family was... er... how you said... idiot, may be?"
"A poet thinks the others don't understand about him or her".
"It's true".
Silent. A bird at the tele began to eat and fly for the artificial woods: the artificial landscape. Yes, she felt like a bird at tele: enclosed. She, a bird; he, a bird. But we were enclosed at his room.
"I lived with him, Robert, like you lived with your mom", she said and hers lips enclosed by her soul, "my parents were living in theirs minds. I was a shadow for them and my uncle, brother of my mom, gave me a place in his family and the world. When I was a child, my world was my room and the dolls".
"My dad was... anyway, the point is that the world is ours, but ours lives weren't perfect like we wanted".
But now they where watching tele, a movie about a bird which wanted to return to some place called Up. But the sky was not its friend. Sara took a piece of cake and saw the cherries on her hand. When her uncle lived, he used to cut a piece of cake and told her a story or poem wrote by him. She began to cry and hers tears fell for her face, crossing the cheeks like a river. But Sara need to know the adventures of her life.

EDUARDO GUTIERREZ