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A human figure on the bridge, dark and metallic, he leans over the edge and throws an object with force. Our castaway uses no bottle or parchment to send his messages, all he needs is a condom with an autographed poem on a paper napkin. Afterwards with a gesture of pleasure he lights a poorly rolled cigarette, watching the fetid waters. His eyes contemplate a black bay, a woman passes close to him, she becomes a princess and down below, in the river, the grating of the rats' teeth sing like the chorus of a convent full of nuns, He throws the butt, smoked to the fingers and calmly proceeds towards the bar, there he passes the hours amongst the smoke, the beer, the paper napkins. Aliens, illuminatii, nymphs, toreros, unemployed musicians, dogs, cats, fairies and demons swirl around him and only he sees them. When he feels that he's had enough he buys condoms and crossing again the bridge, through sad and badly lit alleys he arrives home. See you tomorrow Patri. Henrique Ciller - 1990 Dedicado a: Antonia Vives Pérez y José Reina, militante de la C.N.T.
 "Metralletas, Bombas y Toreros" by Patricio Bernardeau
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Philm Freax España | The Choices | "How does he do it?" | "a través de un espejo/retrovisor" | Phil talks Spanglish!
