Sobota, 19 października 2013.

Sunday, October 16, 2011. Cochamó, as it is now, is more than just a natural paradise. It is a collection of people, good humor, and new adventures that is so pacifying to the soul that it reaches a point of euphoria. I am truly at peace.

Sunday, October 16, 2011. I was an impotent, sad excuse for a human being; a quivering runt, most likely abused as a puppy; a slug recently prodded at with a salty index finger. Vishal, who had been belaying me for the last two hours, yelled up at the withered ball I had become. 8220;So what do ya wanna do? 8221; Vishal asked.

Sunday, October 16, 2011. Amid the crowd of the second story bar, the gypsy girl danced until the moonless sky was at its darkest. Behind her a pit bull man watched the curve of her back, following it as it bent and arched to the music. He took gulps of the lukewarm lager in front of him and then inhaled a long drag on his cigarette. His bottom lip was still moist with alcohol. Minutes before, maybe hours, the gypsy girl had walked in. She had been dancing the whole ti.

Sunday, October 16, 2011. 8221; Then the clouds move off somewhere else, giggling at their own mischief. At the wedding set in the city gardens, neither the engaged couple nor the guests knew what the clouds in the distance would become. Apprehension breathed from one body to another, all trying to ignore our basic instincts that tells us that the weather will provide some sign as to the future happiness of the couple. My narration finishes here, but the story has many more parts to be written.