Half a million signatures sentenced my death

The wind blows soft. The smell of fresh grass fills the air. The sun reaches its fullness in heaven. Under the tree I see the clouds that adopt forms of curious. In the distance the foreman who gives orders to the servants heard to open the gates of the enclosure. A pastor comes to my encounter with caution, with an elongated instrument that hits the ground. Me estremezco. I hit once in the lower back and I start walking. Directs me to the end of the fence and makes me go into a kind of gloomy cave, Dark, the end which is not seen. I turn around and I do not see the green meadow, and blue sky. I see only darkness. Suddenly a thud and then a constant vibration, I move from one place to another, I feel that I move, and I finally stabilized. After what seems an eternity, noise and vibration cease. The slight movement of my body just stops when a light blinds me completely, the pastor makes me down again, I scream and do not know why. I run by a very narrow tunnel and the smell of food opened my appetite, i'm hungry. How to taste, I'm happy, but I miss the smell of fresh grass, blowing air caressing my body. My happiness interrupts me again another pastor, with softer side, hits the softer ground, I am comforted. I head back for another tunnel is even wider. I stop in front of a large red door. He suddenly opened and the sun and yellow flood my vision. Drums, cheers, applause, I'm scared. I run in all directions without finding out, a species of red fences prevent my escape. I turn and find myself facing a strange man wearing brilliantly with a red cape moving in my direction, I causes, approaching me slowly, striking the ground with his left foot, is moving closer to me, bending. Noise becomes a silent, do not hear. Only my feet touching the sand and lifting, increasingly angry, until I throw myself against the man, it turns on itself and makes passing through the layer while lifting. Just then an unintelligible murmur heard me, occasional applause and Ole! The man returns to provoke me and threw me against him, but rotated back and did not reach. I do not understand. Whenever I'm more tired, fatigue flooded me, saliva escapes me at the mouth, I thirsty. The man approaches me again, this time without layer, with two short rods colors, The perched on my head and encourages me to go to him hitting the ground. Step by him and feel I desagarro, the back pain is acute, I froze, I feel faint, but the pain is slowly going. I duck my head and stir the yellow sand, just then a drop, as rain falling on sand, but strong color, very dark, red as the fences, intense. Miro man and again encouraged me to go against him, beginning my career, this time I noticed weaker, heavier, slower. To pass him again that sharp pain, even more intense. I bend over myself, shrinkage of pain and anguish. Steal my strength and my address. Rage. Snort and this time I hope to incite to go to him, ring, quick yet heavy, sore. Step close to him, almost brushed him with my head. I turn to him and look, carrying in his hand a thinner rod, silver. Anger toward the man who hurt me. I head straight, ready to defend myself and just pass him removed and the final blow. Pain. I feel that life is leaving me, I collapse on my body, pitching, I open my mouth, I try to suck all the air I can but strength fails me. Finally, support the head in the sand. Red drops go on to become a deep red puddle, I'm slowly losing vision, all darkens, far away man's steps are approaching slowly, background noise, applause. And black. Be Quiet.

Me elevo, about myself, I see myself lying on the floor with open mouth, surrounded by my own blood. The arena is full of several men, approach me, me mutilan, take in hand my newly cropped ears. Up on their shoulders to my murderer, give ear and out amid cheers and applause from the large door.

Celebrate my death as if it were a birth. My body led him to crawl. The trail of blood in my body is spread by sand.

They call this celebration, celebration, heritage. My death, my agony, my pain. Cultural Interest, supported by more than half a million signatures. A legislative initiative that reopens the debate about bullfighting in Congress of Deputies. Barbarie against celebration.

Angela Ochoa Lamb

Publicado en A UN METRO DE SEVILLA en Febrero 2013

PHOTOCHOA

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