In the middle of the crossroads of such a violent autumn, some gestures acquire the delicate credential that memory activates against the empire of indifference.
In certain very specific places, someone places a bouquet of flowers that time will dry, although it may not completely knock it down.
Or leave the trace of an unavailable memory to the erosion of oblivion.
Or he simply goes to a specific place remembering the times that that same place meant something else, because then dreams still
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