- " This history that
continuation I am going to relate,
perhaps stops
most of the people, them it can seem
incredible,
unthinkable and impossible but, for all
those that live
and they coexist both between worlds; the
one of alive and the one of
died or, for that there are there been
and they have not returned,
for them no.
Toni Blanch. "
In memory of Juli Verdés and
Toni Blanch.
Rest in peace.
1
In an imaginary Association of "
Anonymous Men Of Saco ", it would
raise to me of my folding metallic chair
and before the rest of my new colleagues
diria...I am called Toni Blach, I
have been being 30 years old and I am a
man of the coat for almost two months so
that to continuation, the rest of my
companions, they applauded and they
animated welcome Toni to me, Bravo,
well fact, we will help you to surpass
it!
That with which, during my childhood, it
used to scare my mother to me to try to
make me eat that liver shoemaker in
against my paladar, incredibly, was
certain. Toni, eat you the liver
or will come the man from the coat and it
will take to you., it repeated three
nights to me to the week.
- Yes, the man of the coat
exists; the man of the coat... I am.
- A man with a coat as an
older person and worn away fabric to its
backs, dressed by ragged, dirty ones and
abraded clothes. Barefoot and showing its
feet the world, blackened by the mixture
of dirt of the streets and the spilled
dry blood of some its manifold hurt to
step on the butts still to extinguish and
the some frolics little pieces of broken crystal.
Giving off all its body a scent to dead,
corpse in decomposition. Vagando by the
streets of the great large city, ignoring
the traffic lights, the pedestrian
crossings and the estridentes cláxones
of vehicles that are been on the verge of
ending him, piiiiiiiiiiiii, stupid
idiot, displeased... pi piiiiiiiii! to
see if you learn to cross without your
breast, espantapájaros, he is crazy or
what?
That I am.
Requesting alms to that with glance,
mixture of astonishment and disgust, they
indicate to me and to judge, asking
itself how a man can have arrived at so
extreme. Ay friends, if they knew the
little distance that is in the time
between its cleanings and brilliant lives
and the one of this man, would doubt and
they would not condemn to him by its
miserable stamp and they would change the
sentence, would say my defense
counsel. If they knew that it does
few months, this man, passed by this same
place with his luxurious todoterreno way
towards his office in the bank and while,
to the movable telephone, it closed a
treatment of three hundred fifty million
pesetas, its sentence would be innocent,
very innocent would add I.
Everything can change at simple moments,
a day you rise and something lacks in
your surroundings, my average half, my
July of the core.
But the entraria public prosecutor in
scene and would ask permission Mr. Judge
to take step to the test I number 1 and
only one, the coat, my coat. A judicial
agent, impeccably uniformed, high, robust
as an oak and, protecting his ways
respiratores with a white mask
antiscent, would make formal appearance
by an adjacent door to the room, carrying
between its muscles arms a silver-plated
tray covered by a fine white savannah creén
really that this miserableable man is
innocent? and that says to me of this? the
public prosecutor would say before
opening the tray of a dry pull of the
Oooooh sheet! the room to
unisono would exclaim proclaiming its
guilty, guilty popular sentence to
shouts! to the chair, that that miserable
condemned dies.
TO BE CONTINUED
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