Como luceros fríos

Sobre el olivar hay un cielo hundido y una lluvia oscura de luceros fríos.

16 March, 2008

My father called today and left a message. Checking up on me, he said. This is on the heels of intermittent emails from my mother asking me to contact them. I think this is the fourth or fifth time my father has called me on the phone. In my entire life, I mean. Anyway, even if I wanted to answer, I couldn't. I've had acute laryngitis for days and I can't speak. So I emailed them and told them that, no, my city has not been bombed and to chill out.

I am such a coward.


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