ON THE BACK THEY SELL IT RED

I immersed myself in a dialogue between sea breams while the turkeys pecked in the pen -That; put the chickens And the villager said go and say there that they sell red wine around the corner. The old woman did not have eyebrows, nor did she have eyelids, they had fallen due to a disease called ptosis. Poor thing had done the race on Calle la Montera and she returned to town sick. She was a priestess of taste, and after all she was already a prick. I'll be a whore, she said, but I was always decent. I gave myself to the trade to eat, then there was no. She went to church every day, she washed the rectory for the priest and washed his clothes. She played the bells and gave the cry for the dead when someone died. Now prostitution had become widespread and so much so that many girls on TV were whores and even some minister did not hide their condition. You spread your legs and win a position and whoever comes behind let him drive, well, I mean, they sell red wine around the corner. Good woman the Jesusa whom we called in my town about the Repentant. Others the Arrecogida. She died almost a saint and she put candles to Magdalena and even Nephrisa who did it out of love for her neighbor. Well, this Saint Nephrisa, doing it for nothing and out of charity, she sanctified herself. Of the meek of heart will be the kingdom of heaven. She no longer remembered her orgasmic profusions or her clients on Calle la Ballesta. They were very dirty guys. They would sleep with us and then they would beat the woman with some purges from here I'll wait for you. The thing is hopeless and those who say otherwise protect against current. She used to say to Jesusa that her best clients were the priests. And it is that indeed the thing has no two ways. Around the corner they sell it red.