She arrived alone, and settled in the old house, suddenly, after so many years abandoned had their windows open and soft music playing.
She was strange, at least for the lifestyle of the people. Everyone assumed that in large cities women living alone have gray, sweetly playing the piano alone and taking a walk alone at dusk. Not there. Not that way. Doña Inés, the baker, who had been widowed, lived alone, but on the same block lived his daughter, son and grandchildren. Doña Carmen was also living alone in the outskirts of town, someone remembered when discussing the issue on the corner of the square, but ... better not talk about it told the other women, something obfuscated and avoiding looking at the few men there present who pretended indifference.
Newcomer talk was not looking in the store, or slackened the pace when one of the neighbors trying to catch up on the street during walks he took. Or covert tactics of the most discreet, and greetings to the cries of the most daring, managed to break the barrier she put off the curiosity of others. Greetings responded with a small gesture, a slight nod, a smile transparent, a rush of footsteps. Needed to want to be greeted to feel that this had happened. Greetings were coming from afar, as if she just there, a few steps, he was really miles away.
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