Los relatos de Maurice Sparks

The lady sings in the arms of a stranger. She sings a song about rain. It’s raining, raining again, a million drops fall on my head like tiny swords, she sings. The stranger cries as he kisses her ears.

“Look,”she says, “the wing of a dragonfly.” “I used to have wings,” she mutters.

“I know,” he says, “I know.”