Stories and News No. 980
Roberto Berinstain has lived in the US for 20 years, managing a restaurant with his wife, before being deported to Mexico this week.
Although undocumented, the man had a Social Security number, driver's license, permission to work legally and no criminal record.
Everything went according to the recently written script by the new US administration, other than the fact that Roberto's wife voted for Trump...
Once upon time there were friends.
I hope the highest will control them, they used to say.
Maybe because up there all is more evident.
Distinguishing the wheat from the chaff.
Among those who really shake hands with intention and those that draw on facial expressions cooked in due course.
Among those who have such a hurry to embrace you rising doubts whether it is really an hug and those who did not need to get close to show you the best.
The danger, as often happens, comes from above.
So, how it was at the beginning and always will be, who you choose to put there, on the highest throne in the bright sky, makes all the difference in the world.
Especially those who you consider trustful.
Loneliness often makes bad jokes to mind and confuses the soul, but the bad company can be fatal.
So, then, there were once enemies.
The ones who were friends or that always have been opponents, by choice or screenplay’s needs, the plot does not change, the clash is inevitable.
You against them.
Possibly, we against you.
At best, you and me against all.
That’s the greatest spot on the now starless, striped clouds.
Because, if you get lost counting them, you will neglect the number that matters.
How many rights you have surrendered in exchange for a flag to wave in the streets of downtown and a trumpet to blow in time with the crowd.
Therefore, once upon a time friends and enemies.
The soldiers on the floor of the only player on the field.
Read as well as the trickster with ungainly voice screaming behind the veil.
Into the King's room of the just painted Emerald City.
No one seems to win this game.
No one seems to miss.
While someone, somewhere beyond the two-faced walls, reassuring on one side and fearful on the other, he silently collapses and dissolves as memory’s powder.
While you've never understood whether he was or could have been.
Friend or not.
Read more stories to think about
Buy my English edition book Stories of diversity (Paperback and Ebook)
Listen my song Wolves
Watch my last storytelling show with English subtitles It's amazing what a little light can do
Storytelling videos with subtitles