Tag Archives: poetry and stories

Heat Change

When the last of those who had witnessed his show less and less by the way, he was gone, the old puppeteer, turned off the lights, picked up his puppets, and returned to his memories .- It was almost inexplicable to him, that those figures which gave life, after so long, had begun to say words that did not say, or thought not to say .- Maybe …….. but did not determine with certainty since he had failed to master the subtle movements puppets, in order to become it the run, but was almost sure, that coincided with the time it began to feel surrounded by this cold, and today was so .. He looked a few logs in the home, and I make a decision, searched the vessel with fuel, produced the dolls home, and after spraying, dropped the container on the floor .- He sat in his old chair, lit a cigarette and while throwing the match to the home, closed his eyes, he had decided from that moment on the path of memories, and nonjudgmental, reliving their successes and mistakes, as if to put life into a sensible balance, like most human beings at some point in their lives have done or will he think .- in childhood, or in youth . perhaps, images are never clear, but a great mess of life .- How strange and secret places of our brain becomes active at a time like ?The man child gave way to the old man, and the right age made that decision, perhaps because they seldom had echo, through ignorance or cowardice … Intel is often mentioned in discussions such as these.

. Never think about it, for what, if anything would change . If anything was learned, is that it is so difficult to change the course of one’s self, to change the world ?.. So wrapped up in a whirlwind of thoughts, in his old companion chair, took a cigarette to his lips, but this time it lit up, let alone felt its presence, I knew that soon, very soon, I wrap the warmth desired .-..