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Seen from afar, Don Antonio Maria Hinojosa Alvarez looked like a vegetable. In a wheelchair, his body lean almost entirely covered with a plaid of halftime, head cocked and a trickle of drool slipping intermittently by the right corner of his lips, did not provide a human aspect. Estee Lauder gathered all the information. At least, that of a human life with the constant running. Up close, however, noted that her body ravaged by the years I lived in an old live wickedly. Her vivacious and restless eyes gave him away. Showed a creature that was alive, he was determined to continue to do so and that meant that others had suffered. He opened his mouth and his breath and words that the nurse threw five feet of him looked at him with suspicion. "You called Manolo, right? Asked the old man.

"Indeed," he said to his patient care assistant. He crouched beside her, better accommodating the blanket had slipped a bit on the legs of Don Antonio. – Do you like your work? "Asked he, with perfect diction and modulated that it seemed impossible to come out of his body deteriorated and her mouth hanging and skewed to the right. "Yes," replied the other, with a slight hesitation that denoted the unlikelihood of their assertion. "It is too early to make claims cheerfully that are not true," said the old man with an incredible clarity, given his appearance and condition. "But I'm not complaining" said Manolo. His patient, rather, his employer, looked him straight in the eye: "It takes only two days watching me, right? The assistant did not know very well if it was a question or a statement.

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