Imagino que estás con nosotros.
I am in a plot, an area of a relative, it is possible to say that I am in a piece of open land opposite to a bonfire done with trunks of wood. But actually we are in a velatorio, more precisely in the burial of my father, who will be buried in this place.
I am very alert, commit an outrage what happens so apart from the pain, am the host of the ceremony and try to draw a smile in the lips.
One finds the bonfire, with a fire of meter and a half of height, in the way a trunk lodged in the floor, which separates me from the strong blaze.
Under the feet, I am for on a plate of steel, which warms my body.
Using the memory I begin to cry evoking pleasing moments lived together with my father, simultaneously that I support my head in the post, and my tears in row...