Desire

“Look at the sea”, I tell her as I sit by the window watching the Mediterranean slowly waking up. I … More

Love

Why don’t you write a book about mountains?, he asks me And I think of my fingers against the rock … More

The criollo stands up on the back of his hooves and I loose my balance. I fall off landing on … More

She closes her eyes to the sirens and honking cars in Buenos Aires and hear his words in her head. … More

“True love waits”, the pink poster glued to the street wall tells me. I cross the railway on Coronel Niceto … More

Most Argentines can have dinner until midnight on a weekday and still manage to work for eight hours the next … More

If I would choose I would write about you and spend days following you on horseback in the Andes. They … More

“True love waits”. A pink poster with black letters is speaking to me as I cross the railway on Coronel … More

I came back from the mountains with a bruise on my back and as the days past in the city … More

I see the path in front of me. It’s fairly flat with just a few rocks – it’s perfect for … More