It has been a while since I read in Fonchito's book. I must admit my dear friends: I got tired of it. Sometimes the writer just seems to be without any inspiration. Must I admire Fonchito for even adding some horrible stories to that fascinating book? Perhaps, it shows us that even the greatest people are just dull or stupid at times.
As I was walking through town yesterday evening, the universe made it clear to me that I should re-open Fonchito's storybook. I was on my way to meeting a friend, just to have a quick drink before heading to my bed. We set up to meet around 10, I was-as always- a little early. So I decided to make a little tour downtown. As I have said before, I love walking around and watching people in the daily routine, just as Fonchito actualy. I saw two men arguing, I saw three girls laughing, I saw four kids playing and five dogs running. Nobody seemed alone, nobody but me. Altough the little bird on the rooftop of a small café seemed pretty lonesome. Could I compare myself to that little bird? I guess not, I was about to meet my friend. So I must not be as lonesome as the little bird. But what's the harm in being alone if you can fly freely through the sky?
The bird took off, as telling me 'mind your own business'. I walked towards the little bar where I would meet my friend. The bartender -a 'connaisance'- told me John just called that he would not be able to make it. I smiled, ordered a drink for myself and took a place next to the window. Here I was, lonesome as the bird, but not being able to fly anywhere. I decided not to stay too long, I drank my order and left within 10 minutes. On my way back I saw two men laughing, three girls gossiping, four kids fighting and five dogs barking.
Before entering my door a bird landed on my doorstep. It walked around for about ten seconds and flew away. With his wet little feet he wrote 'Fonchito'...
