One day you wake up with Giraluna image in your head. Again the commonly recurring dream since his mother, long ago, he told his story. In the universe everything has its opposite, said his mother, his voice mellow. For white, black. For high, low. Fat, skinny. Rich, poor. Solidarity, solitary. Bankers and unemployed. Everything except one thing. As far as she knew, there was only one thing in the universe that had no antonym: sunflowers. Why did not exist Giraluna? How would your life? He wondered sitting the edge of the bed of John. Insurance convivirÃa summer surrounded by sunflowers on shyness, haughty, brave, proud night. At the time his teammates humiliated to the moon, he looked up with dignity and was so enthralled with beautiful image. Kneeling landscape that never contemplate. The satellite, from the Sun, although this was a star, observed in his daily commute. Moon was so grateful that I ever gave anyone was. Slowly, so flirty, turned around and showed him in an exclusive his faithful follower, his face hidden. And he did so to satisfy those who never lost faith, always kept their dreams and had discretion own.
Eventually discovered that the story was not his mother, although counted as theirs. Luis Eduardo Aute was the favorite singer of his father. And although the maternal intention was all the opposite, solitary plant dreamed of experiencing the prejudices of their surroundings. Without defense or support in a world of light, no shadows with him when he arrived. Not a greeting, no smile, no kiss, not a right. His everlasting punishment: loneliness.
And it was strange the attitude of John. In sad everyone was equal, except his mother, who came to town for thirty years accompanying a handsome soldier who knew in their homeland.
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