slept after peeling façade of an old building. Passers raised his eyes suspiciously as they passed under the building, fearing that a brick fell on their heads.
He was still asleep.
used to dream of Hungarian Dances, though often invaded a night rest. However, tonight a requiem was held behind his closed eyelids. He was restless. Could feel some angelic voices singing a lacrymosa while spinning the sheets, tangled between his legs the thin folds of her only protection.
opened his eyes.
stood still a moment with his gaze turned to the dark. Did not notice anything. Just the sound of music coming from downstairs. Had not yet closed its bar Mrs. Juliana. Tormented him all those Friday nights that both tangos detested. I was not sure the reason for such a visceral hatred, but perhaps was due to the nostalgic aroma that surrounds them.
He covered his ears with the pillow.
but managed to muffle the sound began to hear the silence. Became nervous. He tried to remember the beginning of that song her mother sang to him every night before bed. Then he realized where it came from that melody and smiled happily at his insight. He closed his eyes as he was played again in his dreams the old nursery rhyme.
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