had blue eyes, calm and clean.
When he spoke he smiled but did not move his mouth, and sometimes talks with him forcing others to bow lips involuntarily.
sat there smoothing his shirt while buttoned, looked away years of imprisonment, exile, such as escaping from the fabric wrinkles Mintra passed his hand over them.
talked about what had happened to the distant voice of one who has left behind too, and it was impossible to hear without his memories went into my mind to stay. "I know Belgium
said picking up his jacket from his chair seven years I lived there and I do not know ... I only remember the window of my house, they saw the river from the windows ... I preferred prison to exile.
It gets the sack and just look at me tell me you get used to prison he joined her, while always a stranger outside.
"I understand those who relapse, the jets returned to the Criminal ... you know what to expect inside.
When I entered, the lawyer told me that mine was for a year. I felt I was dying.
But after time passed ... five years ago when I was there, the prosecutor asked for six more years ... and I took it easy.
I can only imagine what I said.
I watch him as he talks arranged clothes, feeling the growing admiration against which fought for his ideas, his thoughts are arranged in the air like in a closet.
Floating between us are the bars, and the grimace a window that showed a river that never visited.
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