As the last post of this wonderful 2009, I leave The picture was moved, a story by Julio Cortazar that I love:
A cronopio will open the front door, and put his hand into his pocket for the key that takes is a box of matches, then this much and grieve cronopio begins to think that if instead of the key finds matches, it would be horrible that the world had moved at once, and maybe if the matches are where the key, it can happen that you find a wallet full of matches, and the full sugar money, and the piano filled with sugar, and the phone's full of music, and the closet full of subscribers, and the bed full of costumes, and vases full of linens, and trams full of roses, and fields full of trams. So this cronopio grieving horribly and runs to look in the mirror, but as the mirror is somewhat lopsided what you see is the umbrella of the hall, and its assumptions are confirmed and bursts into tears, falls to his knees and puts his little hands do not know why. The famas neighbors come to console him, and hope, but spend hours before the cronopio out of his despair and accept a cup of tea, which looks and looks a lot before drinking, not going to happen instead of a cup area is an ant or a book of Samuel Smiles.
Have a very good new year. See you in 2010.
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