When history is a novel, its threads intertwine like cobwebs to weave events that were absent from us among the memories, Torangel's novel tells us the memories that time has hidden from us

Back to back.. "years ago"... successive flashes
A cry that refuses to come out from inside his bright red heart, thoughts writhing with longing as they fall from the memory of a dark, sleepless night that increases the darkness of their presence underground. scattered feelings...a thought crossed a ring with vague flashes. Sitting in front of the old man, he consoles him and relieves him of his pain after losing everyone he knows. Another glimpse of the old woman scolds him for not being able to trust himself and that he should know how special he is from everyone else. The old man's words are breathtaking.
Among the silent sunsets عن