Cada tarde, Joana se sienta a la puerta de su casa y espera en silencio la llegada de su gorrión. Lo llama con el pensamiento, siempre entre el miedo a no volver a verlo y la esperanza de que regrese. Es un gorrión único, con las plumas un poco revueltas y, en la cabeza, una manchita con forma de lágrima. Tímido, no se deja tocar. ¿Qué haría Xenia si pudiera tenerlo entre las manos?
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Every afternoon, Joana sits at the door of her house and waits in silence for the arrival of her sparrow. She calls out to him with her thought, always between the fear of never seeing him again and the hope that she will return. It is a unique sparrow, with its feathers a little ruffled and, on its head, a small teardrop-shaped spot. Shy, he doesn't let himself be touched. What would Xenia do if she could hold it in her hands?
