I returned to the routine of coffee at odd times, to the sweet irresponsibility of running away when you hear the bullets, the unfortunate events and fists. He remembered little bitter smell of ink, but when I arrived back all these memories that seemed lost.
Now everything is smaller, the size of the pages and also the distance between each of us who work in "Writing." Yes, I wanted to return, turning to me in the mirror and I feel ridiculous with such gadget that supposedly facilitate my work, I'm still faithful to the book and pen, it would stick to my cup of gorillas because I have not lost.
more than 12 hours working, I'm exhausted, food dona carmen has hurt me and yet I'm happy, I read today all that will be news tomorrow and I love knowing that it will not change when you wake up, the issue is already in print and no human power to stop this sort.
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