Yesterday a man approached me and asked me if I knew how to get to sky.
"Yes. On a plane!" I answered instantly, with a smile on my face. He fell silent, looked at me for a few seconds and continued on his way.
And that I did not talk about Cortázar, and the pebble that you drag with the tip of the shoe, until the end of the hopscotch.
I did not tell him that we also carry the sky inside, that there are times when I feel like a sky that comes alive.
I could have told him so many things about "sky" and how to get there ...
But he gone. He looked at me and gone.