A person —a stranger I should say— that caress you, that jokes with you, who’s sweet to you and carries you to the edge of a precipice. There the character says “ay” or faints. As if he was within a kaleidoscope and saw the eye that watched him. Colors that arrange geometrically far beyond what you are willing to accept as good. Autumn begins like this, between the río Oñar and the colina de las Pedreras.
Translation by Tim Pilcher