The song that is ours, composed by Eduardo Galiano

I am now thinking that we used to laugh at silly things, and utter this vulgar phrase or that, arrogant, mocking, without any of us mentioning the joy of reunion or anything like that. So this is the fashion, isn’t it? The national fashion: what we call sobriety, and I know that it’s enough to know that there is someone who believes in you to save yourself, and that important matters die when they are mentioned by name, and that one should not trust words exhausted by use. I know all this. It is shameful to get upset and show your emotion, I know, these are things I always say to myself, but because of the national fashion, the last thing I remember from my best friend is something shameful. It’s hard for me to imagine all this light in the air, the air filled with rain, and everything shining with white light, in the distance a woman with her back to the wall, waiting for me, my son coming towards me running, and with one leap climbing onto me, and we drown in a long embrace. Heartbeats on the chest, two beats: I am free, I am alive, this need to walk in any direction and for an indefinite time, I walk just to walk, because I want to, because I wander with walking, freedom. Look, I have these bread crust worms for you, we all made them. The rain is coming, the dark clouds hang from the sky, the swollen midday air, when you discover that the world is organized to kill your loved ones... Number of pages: 288