Spring has come to earth in a melancholy aspect. The garden is shady as spirits. The sky threatened rain and further verdeguea light colors is all that shines as not far round the corner, three shadows scavenge garbage cans. They are not dogs or cats, they are people of flesh and bone. Looking for a second chance on a shirt without buttons, worn as much as their faces. In a newspaper whose lyrics will make you forget, the less is the date ... I'm approaching them and note in their gestures rage, but resigned to the deterioration that their lives have been pushed, because it is no stranger many have been eaten by scavengers hostile society in which they are now living. It has started raining furiously. The sky may download angry tears of those who seek a living in the garbage they have stolen.
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