Furtive tears


I spent a few days in Miranda de Ebro, my hometown, in an attempt to escape this unbearable heat that makes in Madrid. As it happens every time I go back to the place where I was born and spent my childhood, I can not avoid the feeling of frustration that the transformation of an urban landscape that has nothing to do with that of my memories.

When I was seven or eight years old, I used to go with my parents in the summer to have lunch on the riverbank, just a few hundred meters from my house. The grass and the brush now invade the poplar forest where we sat to eat an omelet or cans of sardines while the … See More. [TagsToTranslate] cuartango


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