To Verena Reinhart
It was raining in the streets of Sanlúcar days ago; it was a hard rain and nobody was playing in the sand of a lonely beach. Nobody was walking under a dark grey sky. Sevilla was so close, so faraway. Another place, really, another time. And sounds of a great jazz musician, Miles Davis, were surrounding everything, to stay quiet, to stay calm. There were some birds singing and a train began to speak, so slow. The sun was rising among some dark clouds and the earth seemed small then; probably, your sweet fingers thought it´s good to be here, it´s great to live in a city that has become part of your hands these days, a city in the south that makes you smile some days, makes you sad some nights. And, soon, you wil be listening to Joan as a policewoman, and Seville, now and then, will be the dawn of your blue smile. Seville will be your water, will be your life. Corners of a same city: agua y vida sobre tu sonrisa azul.