A MIGRATORY BIRD

It filled the air with beauty and magic; that music seemed to come directly from heaven.
I was wondering which bird had such an incredible voice but I could not think of any. It must have been a migratory one coming from far away.
When that old gipsy neared I finally understood.
He was telling his story playing a violin.
I would have cried, being a man.

(The Olive Tree Tales)

THE LAST SUN RAYS

When she got out of his blue sport car she was smiling.
He was speaking at the telephone, he seemed very busy. She waited for him enjoying the last sun rays caressing her skin.
When he reached her he didn´t embrace her. He was not in love anymore and he finally said it.
Going back to his car he didn´t turn; he left her there, alone, he didn´t see the tears fulfilling her eyes.

(The Olive Tree Tales)

BAREFOOT

She was barefoot. Her clothes were poor and worn out.
Her face and hands were dirty and when she passed near by, she stopped to collect some olives. She walked away eating my fruits.
She was the poorest child I have ever seen, but she was smiling: a big loyal dog walked at her side.

(The Olive Tree Tales)