Elena Vargas percorse il longo corridoio without versare un lacrima né tremare.
Gli uomini nelle celle rimasero in silence assoluto al suo passaggio.
A strange gravity emanated, almost indefinable.
In her conversation, she saw her father for the first time three years ago.
Mateo was seduto, incatenato to the metal table, the sua tuta arancione sbiadita, the beard uncolta e trascurata.
When I saw it, I teared it up and saw it.
“La mia bambina”, mormoró. “Mine Elena…”
Quello che accadde dopo avrebbe changed everything.
Elena shook the hand of the social assistant and said the last verse.
Niente corse. Niente grida.
One step was deliberate, studied, as he saw that moment when he returned to his mind.
Mateo tese le mani incatenate verse di lei.
Read if you got the dream braccia and the abbracciò forte.
For a whole minute, silence.
The guard was kept in Angola. The social assistant, distracted, searches the telephone.
Poi Elena did see the father’s words and whispered.
Nessuno udì le parole.
Ma tutti assistettero alle conseguenze.
Il viso di Mateo impallidì.
His body started to shake violently.
The tears were silent if they were transformed into depths and streets.
He found the figure with a mist of terror and a fragile hope that guarded him not avrebbero mai dimenticato.
“I see?” riuscì to say, with a broken voice.
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