Incorporación

Somebody makes a pseudo-stupid joke at my son Quique in the street —something I’ll never understand. Pablo looks at me with his best “what the hell just happened, did you get it?” and our telepathy fails for a moment, and I have to make do with expressing my thoughts with words, and in front of

Translation (WIP) of the Amanda Palmer song in memory of my German mom, Benita —the Anthony Martignetti of my life. She died last year.

Retratos animales: el lobo, originalmente cargada por Bego*. Dicho así, suena comestible. Será que ya tengo hambre.