Synopsis of Sabía leer el cielo
We know the dishes we will eat from, the glasses we will drink from, and the paintings we will look at on the walls. We know what the view will be through the bedroom window on a clear morning. We know what hawthorn will look like in May and rowanberries in September. We know the smell and the light and the caress of the air. When I was young I had no future and no past. Then I worked. I paved roads, broke concrete, dug under houses and removed mud. I counted shovels, I counted potatoes and I counted bricks. It was the time when I had a past. It was heavy like the blocks that weigh down a boat. Without a past, I would have sunk. I thought I had a future too, but I couldn’t see it. It was in the things I picked up and carried and what I was given to do. It was a future that blinked and darkened when I tried to look at it.