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In memory a misty landscape, of dark light, is present again and again, without its viewer - the one who remembers - can avoid it.
A bird slips from the sky. It plummets. He dies, but his eyes are still alive, perjuring a secret fear in the glass, which he will know how to hide in the folds of the future.
There is a story about the secret, dark and distant childhood, from which echoes with voices, half-spoken words and images that will have to be completed forever reverberate with lucid insistence. There is a game of shadows. A stain in memory that Claudio and Vicente have captured in a micro story told in verses and illustrated in miniatures, protected all by black arborescences.
And there, on the cover, lies an unnamed bird. Nobody says: I went.