Emilia Landaluce
Updated Friday, March 8, 2024-9:37 p.m.
The smell of the lady of the night intoxicated Albero Campanario.
The sunset over the tilled land of Ambitions advanced following his fate.
In her conversation with her husband, Jesús de Janeiro, she paused again.
Her daughter Jules had posted another photo on Instagram.
The bullfighter, always a bullfighter, made the gesture when she didn't attack him.
And Albero swung his shoe.
Below him, a tiger dozed with abandon.
The little one slept lulled by the pigeons.
"It's such a beautiful night..." Albero finally said.
Lucky!
Is not true?
Jesus looked at her without trying to contradict her.
He had known her since the year the twin towers fell, when she saw him lying prostrate after the accident, almost dead.
What did that girl who worked in the Castellón Pathological Anatomy laboratory have to do with that woman bordering on 50 that she had kissed in that same place when they married a year later?
And left behind were others who called themselves a princess.
-I don't know how the girl can be in Madrid.
Holy Week arrives and then the Fair, then the Rocío...
Albero responded by humming the verses of Joxean Artze that Mikel Laboa popularized.
Hegoak ebaki banizkion nerea izango zen, ez zuen aldegingo.
("If I cut off its wings it wouldn't be a bird anymore and I loved the bird.")
"Girl, what do you have in your mouth?" he said, laughing with that childish grin that never left him.
Albero had already told him those verses in Basque many times.
But she knew the jovial character of her husband.
-I should know that that's why I'm a dentist.
He smiled involuntarily.
The time had not passed in vain.
Ambitions, yes, they were the same.
The noise of the phone brought him back to reality.
Jules had posted another photo.