Sitting at the seaside romp in the sand between my toes, the wind shakes my ears and make tears in my eyes. Like sparkling eddies that form between the stones my thoughts swirl in my head taking me from one side to another, from one feeling to another, from one sensation to another, from joy to sadness, embarrassment to nostalgia, fear the tranquility of the potato patatin.
I look up and discover that there, far in the horizon, the sun is at odds with the sea and clouds, which appear to collude in a slow and patient struggle to kill, to extinguish its light ... but maybe I made it today only be a utopia. Waves break
increasingly away and that leaves traces resemble tide desolate landscapes where life, or what to be, has given way to nothingness, the void ... the wet sand seems to twitch in contact with the last rays of the dying sun king who barely manage to warm and perhaps, resembling the skin pores , agujerillos tiny form on the surface almost giving it the power to breathe.
My skin bristles on cooling time and almost disappeared into the shadows momentarily I park my thoughts and prepare myself to go home, although I must confess that I never feel as comfortable as when I am here, facing the sea, playing with sand between my toes.
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