The town is full of Spaniards, as it seems to be a custom now during Easter holydays.
One notices it even with one’s eyes closed, for these neighbours of mine have developed the habit of talking loud, particularly when they are in groups. I’m unsure if it's a natural way of expressing their happiness for being alive, venting their pride in being Spanish, or if it’s their way to draw attention onto themselves. The latter option would be nonsensical, as we know that by increasing the music volume slowly and progressively in a room full of people and then turning it off abruptly results in everybody being shouting at each other.
Now I’m whispering:
My other option is that they developed a genetic hearing imperfection because of the explosions during the Spanish Civil War.
Yes, that was a political, biological and anthropological incorrect remark. But, mind you, I like my neighbours a lot. And visit their lands whenever I get the chance. And revel with the beauty of their language and of their countr... ies. I love their culture with a few exceptions, like that habit of watching dubbed movies: the most serious of foreign movies becomes a comedy.
They are so much clever than my countrymen and I that we finally lost a battle to them. They won it by recurring to modern infiltration tactics: economical dependency. By force they never achieved it. And I think this military failure of theirs might have had something to do with generals shouting orders as loud as sergeants and as loud as soldiers talking among themselves, and all of them doing it at the same time.
And to end with, let me tell you a secret. Now whispering at your ear. If I’m writing something less than five pages long it's because it is not serious. Tell no one.
