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
Yesterday I went to a rock concert on my own for the first time in my life. In another country. In the middle of nowhere.
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