Txema Rodríguez

Paz would have loved this girl. Her true inner joy jumping from the eyes like a bouncy puppy with a frisky tail. A kind hearted woman in a tight black dress like liquid licorice candy.
She had the appearance of a trompe-l’oeil, emerging from the dirty walls, coming out from nowhere through an inexistent door. And if in that very moment Paz had been there and the dj played Cherry Coloured Funk, I’m pretty sure she would have asked the girl to dance.
Sometimes I wonder why she is unable to leave her fortress and come to visit us and join me in these safaris, instead of sharing our lives only through photos and mails. Why she thinks they are truer than life itself, and if that statement of hers is really a compliment or just an excuse to remain detached and disconnected.