Monday, 7 September 2015

A Sad Thing

No, not the handsome fellow in the picture: although he is connected to the sad thing, it's not his fault. It's mine. Yesterday, my wife and I were sauntering down the slight incline towards the local venta. At the crossroads of my 'street' and the track which is known locally as 'The Old Camino to Coin', a man was leading his donkey. As you can see, the donkey was well turned out. Better than I was, to tell the truth. The man had a long beard with the curly hair reaching the collar favoured by the Gitanos. He was dressed in a white collarless shirt, with faded trousers above the ankle, and sandals. The shirt was very clean and Persil-white.

My wife had her mobile out and was walking faster to catch them up. 'Perdon! ¿Puedo tomar foto?'

This is the sad thing: I was sure the man would prove to be a pick-pocket Or that he would demand a ridiculous fee for allowing us to photograph his lovely animal.

But he didn't. He explained he was trying to get his burro accustomed to traffic. He was just a man schooling his donkey...

And I was a bitter, cynical old fool.

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