He said he hadn't had the chance to ride a bike by himself, drive a car or even take a walk only by himself in the unknown.
He would be forever in the lawn, under the very old roof of the Spanish house.
I spoke to him things outside of these sometimes.
But almost in all instances, my questions were always left unattended.
I was like a cellphone ringing, but the owner couldn't afford to give his time for it.
Childish questions, all rubbish, he should have thought about them.
YOU ARE READING
The Man I Thought Who Can't Appreciate Beauty
Historia CortaA boy's story with a dying old man.