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The gray man

The road to the Mountain of Despair seems a maze, rocks are scattered on the floor as if they had fallen into the cataract from the hands of a giant and sometimes seem to have no solution. The way you invent every step and if it was not because we know people who dwell on the summits would think she was the first time that these parts are traversed. The vegetation is so sparse as harmful, little green bushes and many bones are in charge of making our task more difficult and occasionally impenetrable mats woven together.

To the Virgins is an adventure, a lovely passing game with no fear and, indeed, the fears are all mine; fear that their jumps end embracing the ground or that prominent spines are generated deep wounds, but I know they are old hesitations, doubts that arise in frayed and weary bones and other hoary impotence. They move with such agility, dodging the obstacles that seem to always had lived there.

When the evening finished undressing for a bath of sleep found that man. He was dressed in rags and his face was so gray that I had not distinguished from the huge rock that was supported had it not been for those big blue eyes who insisted on staying open reflecting the last rays of sun. It was certainly the only color detail of the local landscape offered, and it was little.

Ever since the march began so long ago, to meet strangers makes me fear, I fear for myself and those who attempt to shelter under my wing (although usually feel that I am the recipient of the shelter and protection ), ultimately fear that time will be shorter. Yet we always give in and I go to strangers, even if it causes you to remain vigilant at night and just sleep with closed eyes, and this time was perhaps the same sad eyes or the loneliness that covered and that both itching it causes.

your partner's voice, barely audible and released with the shortage of water in arid, reflecting the same grief that their gaze. Their lack of loquacity was not due to modesty and without any hesitation as piece of meat devoured in their power. After the Virgin rendered fell asleep, in a nutshell the gray man told us he was at the site awaiting the arrival of his death, which was an appointment that had been agreed long ago that was delayed but did not find it inconvenient wait.

Rali, so this man said his name was colorless, no room for questions, so little that should be sufficient. Undoubtedly had a story whose weight can bend the back the strongest man, yet he saw it wrapped in a tattered clothes pride that he was unable to conceal.

When the next morning found us again dodging obstacles on the road, just waved goodbye before returning to stand in the same position that we had found. Several feet above a long time and I went to a rock ledge to try to see and I thought watching a woman next to him, but it may diffuse the evening sun has deceived me.

I took my wife by the hand, kissed her and I looked up, it was our horizon distant and unruly.

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stone Horizons

I know, because I myself have collected, that timbers cast into the fire that night were as dry as old thirst, but did not seem so, not a bang was heard and that slinks in the silence that the final Corsicarsa's story had left us and not girls, beyond all this, seemed to want to stop fluttering his tricks.

roasted meat accompanied the show faithfully, lacked flavor and got into our mouths as a reflex. A while later all were asleep while I was feeling heavy and smelly air and sleep low, then, I took the old pipe that had abandoned at the bottom of the bag and left the cave to breathe better.

The night was cool and nothing stood between a sky of stars overwhelmed and my loneliness, but my mind was away and my eyes are distracted by small embers of snuff in the pipe. The Lady's Chest went without my noticing it had reached, he sat beside me resting her head on my shoulder. So he found us in the morning when we got up to stretch a little sleep in the cave and aching bones to accommodate the discomfort.

The next day he just kept silent as we walked we could feel the crunch of leaves beneath our feet and whispering run water that was humming in the jumps. The only force that kept the always were the Virgin and sad-eyed girl who ran before us, and his feet touched the ground.

When the landscape began to wear opaque dry water and stones, the mountain of despair rose before our eyes like we did a bow. It was so impressive that suggested an end, it was impossible to imagine anything behind it and everything around her looked like a carpet lying at his feet.

stone Into that heaven awaited the man whom we had spoken Mirzam, it was because our next destination and to undertake the final march past after one last night with our fellow travelers. They and the mysteries that had not yet been revealed, will continue its way towards the City of Secrets.

Perhaps the future will find it there again, maybe not, only the stone sculpture we had in our future, we would head out into the landscape of our future.