Nostalgia del Reino


In a place called Ipswich, somewhere northeast of this city of marvels that is London.

Without the right letters to write in Spanish.

In ME’s home, waiting for him to go out, to have some party in this far far town, so different of my beloved London. This must be the real England…

In other room, a girl talks in the telephone.

No music. No sounds outside, in the dark street.

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