Compostela, around the table in a cafe, filled with three glasses of red wine demarcated region indicated on the label of the bottle and suggestive title [The grandfather who jumped out the window and left (J-J)] of a book in Spanish, I asked my friend, also a pilgrim:
- Why you walk alone, Joseph? and do not you join us, to others?
- Mario you're wrong, I bring with me when a friend said, pointing to the book.
I'm never alone!
I reminded him of our service then the Nobel Prize for Literature also José, but, Saramago:
"I long to say that all the books, and now my in particular, should take a belt with the words: attention, this book takes a person inside."
He agreed with me, but I said :- not so much the sea or land.
That friend that you refer is like a shadow, did not know his face, smile, tear, do not eat at table with him, or drink a glass with him. At night it will not with you at a bar listening to music, not talk to you and you can not touch or even kiss. This runs your friend for life, is virtual. Finally I shut up, said goodbye to him, I do not think I'm going back to see it was almost like a character shadow.And, now I miss him.
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