Brindis
Did you know? They say it’s wonderful, glorious, to savor a brandy in solitude; that there’s nothing like doing so while sitting in a deep armchair, with a blanket over your legs, by the fireplace, listening to the wood crackle under the fire’s influence; the icing on the cake if raindrops drum on the windowpanes and you catch a whiff of that scent of wet earth that dispels melancholy. Well, even so, I don’t find it very pleasant to have a glass of sherry brandy without you by my side. And yet, today I must drink it to toast your departure.
No one is home, except for your absence and me. So I’ll stand in front of the mirror, so I don’t feel alone when I raise my glass to toast. I’ll drink sip by sip—one for every memory of you—missing the chance to caress you and feel you beside me, looking at me, understanding my silences like no one else. I’m going to miss your barking so much…
Juan Carlos Pérez López
