always wanted to see the Christ of the Gypsies. I heard him out to see the Albaycín, with off street lights and full of torches. I heard something. Something is not to miss another year.
the end I went to Granada, but I could see the Christ of the Gypsies because he was really coming to the call of a lot of friends who concurred in the city.
Al princpio I felt strange, battered by a kind of reverse of ubiquity, a feeling of being imprisoned in the opposite of me when things coincide in time and are so so close in space, you look at the corners as if they would intersect in a moment's notice.
But I went away, because then came the truth, this came with the wind in the old voices and the smell rescued from the bottom of a barrel Alhambra.
That was one of those nights when we are thirsty ourselves not cumulative, one of those nights when you talk high, sing with ease and looked at each other intensely in the eyes ... One of those crazy nights in Granada, as I said a friend heard the first hug, in which a foreign power carries us and we ended up in an unexpected place.
And so it was. They are
Christs, my colleagues ... So much so that sometimes makes me want to take them in procession.
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