The old rain reader has forgotten his own granddaughter, and the cure is written in a journal he can no longer read. Somewhere on the north road, a merchant's cart carries a hundred bottles of stolen sky.
Part 3 of 3 in The Rain That Paints the World
Fermín miraba su propio diario como si fuera un libro extranjero. «Bonitos dibujos» —dijo con educación—. «¿Son míos?».
Opening lines