"You are going gray," she said as she gracefully strange, turned his hand moving the spoon into the pot of hot chocolate about to abort their foam. Apparently my voice was too weak inhibited by the gurgle of the ending of baked beans on the stove. She ignored my words focused on who gave off smoke, perhaps to find the deformed figure of a virgin of Guadalupe, a saint, the devil or Jesus Christ himself; total, have appeared in the explosions of war, in the smoke Cigar and up pineapple pie, why not appear in the pan of beans, I thought trying find the same image. No logic in the bathroom of the fourth enchilada sauce, my eyes saw the serenity and tenderness of the woman, her long hair, wet bath just received and now with tiny lines of new hair, tangled in a pink gown with small yellow flowers bouquets blue was no longer the same, just to confirm. Which for many years took my hand to cross the street, a monthly that occupied my desk to listen to my educational achievements, but above all, the complaints from the teacher because of my bad behavior, or my devilish behavior, as Mom said if not listening and kept telling me to clean while the drafts when other children were eating cucumber with chili and played, as I had, the doctor, try to forget the phrase "be careful what you say someone is" of that teacher to whom I can no longer distinguish her face in my memories and that always hate because they never allowed me to wear a white coat for half an hour.
"I think it lacks salt," he said as he placed his lips on the spoon full of beans, making back to the memory of that woman with striped dress blue and her hair somewhat extravagant of the 80's, I remember decorated with jelly beans green colored gelatin after bait used to force me to eat rice soup with carrots and make tamarind water, that bitter strawberry that cut the tree that covered us in the afternoon sun. A very pale-colored skirt and a sleeveless blouse accompanied in the evenings when he watered the flowers of many colors, and roses by the window and lifted the neck closed their eyes in a way so smug as they splashed the water gently not to be hurt by the drops, and finally, I took her hand to give me the bathroom which was, I needed while I, with the cry of a widow with no inheritance, he shouted that he was wrong, that the bathroom was not necessary, why not wanted and that I would tell my dad how he abused me, while it straight in my head foam the shampoo smells like bubblegum stars and sang Besame Mucho to hear no.
was on my birthday who spent the whole morning to make me a white cake with pink chupetitos and, of course, more blue gelatin in small glasses, perfectly cut sandwiches and a bag full of candy where, using all his mathematical ability, given the amount necessary, always trying to leave a whole bag for when, for the rush, did not come to make jellies and then eat and then use them for bait, but remember that on two occasions there was no candy or jelly, just a couple of threats to make me eat.
His hands were a big bow on my back, a white dress in front of strips, ribbons with those who one day tried to strangle the cat after resisting my touch and not be put ducks bib that matched the purple diaper that had been put. I never liked the dress, but had been a gift from her, it was bound to feel an insatiable taste for it, though I look like a glitzy Christmas gift.
winter days in the ointment on his back and chest is what I remember the most, especially the smell of eucalyptus that was steeped in their hands as I could see a large black and blue balls on the ceiling effects of the disease.
The chocolate was ready, beans grosgrain had stopped and the saints were never found, raising my voice, he repeated, "You are going gray, and patiently waited for an answer to know how the story books, thinking about a life full of white hair, and she looked at me, smiling reply. Yes, I realized, and decided not to dye myself.
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