not choose the night, the shadows fold your conscience and relentlessly obscure, perhaps this virtue is sad that I have been looking.
When H came out of his hole, never thought he would return there, it was true that he hated that old, dark building, but had gotten used to the small morning light any timetable could be mistaken for a black dance. Maybe that's why his room always looked a window drawn on the right wall, a huge mismatch suitcase and a drum of kerosene near the door. One night or afternoon, do not know, never knew at the recess, I heard him explain that it was because he would leave soon so dirty building, but not before flames wrapped in his gloomy room. H was a guy with no scruples, so I was always aware of that day, and when he returned one of his many books or records that kindly lent me, asked about that day, "when we burn this dump" to what he would say "do not despair boy and you'll find the best of your dream ", that phrase made me more restless, I would die.
could not explain why he was on his threat, had a more than mere neighbors, M lent me his books and records, while I heard a great lecture, so dazzling that I had no questions. Then I went to my room and later thousands of questions traveled in my head, H was a mysterious type which was not to be trusted, that I felt it in the middle of his speeches had sort of practical examples lurid anecdotes. That time I paid Rayuela told me that he loved the game, no more than the arrival point was not heaven but hell and when I was there with children playing mysteriously disappeared, nobody knew about them, and and the entire Latin American boom and their titles were distorted so creepy with practical examples. I decided therefore to know more of this strange creature. Where it came from, what he did, he ate everything this I became interested in a compulsive way, and each finding always left me unsatisfied.
Sometimes I think I got to know more than you need, never reaching the details, we should be content with a brief narrative curriculum, something which in a few lines to speak of your "where you" , after a brief handbook with your three most remarkable scenes, a couple of crimes that you want to emphasize, at least three distractions and an updated date. Not one line, sorry it is too late.
My suspicions were confirmed, he had been fired from his job of stenographer, Lucia did not want to know more about him, Adriana on a long journey, the titles were not renewed in the local library and your hemorrhoids worse. Tomorrow was a perfect day. I could not sleep that night, the room was burning and poor H was consumed slowly.
When H came out of his hole, never thought he would return there, it was true that he hated that old, dark building, but had gotten used to the small morning light any timetable could be mistaken for a black dance. Maybe that's why his room always looked a window drawn on the right wall, a huge mismatch suitcase and a drum of kerosene near the door. One night or afternoon, do not know, never knew at the recess, I heard him explain that it was because he would leave soon so dirty building, but not before flames wrapped in his gloomy room. H was a guy with no scruples, so I was always aware of that day, and when he returned one of his many books or records that kindly lent me, asked about that day, "when we burn this dump" to what he would say "do not despair boy and you'll find the best of your dream ", that phrase made me more restless, I would die.
could not explain why he was on his threat, had a more than mere neighbors, M lent me his books and records, while I heard a great lecture, so dazzling that I had no questions. Then I went to my room and later thousands of questions traveled in my head, H was a mysterious type which was not to be trusted, that I felt it in the middle of his speeches had sort of practical examples lurid anecdotes. That time I paid Rayuela told me that he loved the game, no more than the arrival point was not heaven but hell and when I was there with children playing mysteriously disappeared, nobody knew about them, and and the entire Latin American boom and their titles were distorted so creepy with practical examples. I decided therefore to know more of this strange creature. Where it came from, what he did, he ate everything this I became interested in a compulsive way, and each finding always left me unsatisfied.
Sometimes I think I got to know more than you need, never reaching the details, we should be content with a brief narrative curriculum, something which in a few lines to speak of your "where you" , after a brief handbook with your three most remarkable scenes, a couple of crimes that you want to emphasize, at least three distractions and an updated date. Not one line, sorry it is too late.
My suspicions were confirmed, he had been fired from his job of stenographer, Lucia did not want to know more about him, Adriana on a long journey, the titles were not renewed in the local library and your hemorrhoids worse. Tomorrow was a perfect day. I could not sleep that night, the room was burning and poor H was consumed slowly.
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