Tale Tía Tibi

Abstract

Sometimes the sky opens up to give us a glimpse of the paradise that touches us. It lasts only a fleeting moment, the steps of a little girl climbing the stairs, the start of a car in which we could have left, the instant of a photograph, the brevity of a name we did not know. Aunt Tibi was part of the house like the water well, the corridor of my childhood, the fragrant kitchen where she spent the day, she hardly spoke because her smile filled with peace whoever saw her, we knitted together during the afternoons of the hot summer on the coast, while my daughters played in the street, we threw water in front of the door of the house so that the earth would give us freshness, we would throw water in front of the door of the house so that the earth would give us freshness, and we would weave together during the afternoons of the hot summer on the coast, while my daughters played in the street.