acknowledge that I am doubly guilty. First, because the narrative intensive workshops should not be more than one event in my life and I became a modus vivendi: having at least ten years imprisonment, from city to city, from town to town, as if it were a circus, and to dictate, he had virtually stopped writing and not writing, the workshops were my only source of income. Second, because on that day, on 10 December last year and my faults, I should make an eight-hour workshop V. and although my body and beard were graying there, in a classroom at the Athenaeum, compared to four or five people interested in receiving a diploma as a writer that evening, my thoughts were elsewhere, sailing on a draft text that would never write.
Some of that text, which in my mind was a tribute netizens to friends, had to get to the workshops, because just starting the second hour after completion of the historical account and having read the Decalogue de Quiroga, Antonio The bald man of about thirty-five years that was initially presented as a physics professor, he interrupted me saying,
"We could write the story most wanted the text more punch on the Internet.
smiled innocently. In one of the first workshops I taught, an Italian girl had said his goal was to become famous. What I thought Antonio was on the same side, but with fifty kilos and many inches. He then tried to rectify:
-spoke, thinking aloud rather, on a ... - My intention was to put the example of my friend Orlando Chirinos but again I was interrupted. This time it was the dark of the moon, a doctor, about twenty-seven.
- Of the many ways that his name takes on Internet search engines?
"Precisely. Orlando Chirinos, despite being an unusual name, there are many: a writer in Venezuela, a union in Mexico, a taxi driver in Guatemala.
"Yes, but I seem to understand that the idea of \u200b\u200bAntonio is another-that was involved this time it was Audrey: Forty-seven years, a housewife, mother of three, obviously defending Antonio.
"Exactly, I see Audrey caught me the idea. What I'm thinking is to write a text that has the most popular words: Britney Spears, Jennifer Lopez, Michael Jackson, pedophilia, sex free, Daddy Yankee, download free songs, Miss Universe naked free movies. People would put these words in the search engines and forwarded them to the text.
"I could write to all the mole-proposed.
I tried to take the opportunity to think about smoking a cigarette and warn that the workshops would talk later, that exquisite corpse was a topic, an exercise to develop in the penultimate hour of the session but, although let me talk, what I said was already very unimportant to them.
As if he had received the intensive degree, arguing the name you assigned to the author of the story they would write together. The statistics, provided by Antonio, that was something physical, dismissed Juan, Pedro and Antonio. The author called Francisco because it was the name Antonio as more appearances on the Internet. And Rodriguez for the same reason.
I had already gone from craving to hold a lighted cigarette in his right hand. And workshops were making a list of expressions that the text should contain. Antonio proposed Simpsons. Audrey insisted that the text should contain the phrase "how to make money." The brunette, who was named Estela, initially proposed three literary references, the Bible, Don Quixote and Antonio Gala, but then changed his tone: breast augmentation, liposuction, looking for a partner, all for free.
was at that moment when I realized that I had delivered the workshop in that city, about nine years ago, and that Antonio and Audrey, too Estela, who in spite of the lunar and the title of doctor was wanting Italian be famous in the first workshop, were then the only workshops.
I decided to leave the room to speak with the coordinator of the workshops and even consider the possibility of not returning to teach the workshop, a change of air and finally close the cycle of my life.
Maria Gabriela was very container and, seeing it, I remember that he had seen and felt nine years ago, just container. So I invited her to lunch at the Italian restaurant, which I suddenly remembered the profiteroles.
When I returned, the workshops were gone, but the table had left the address of a blog I consulted from the same Athenian. As they had imagined, had completed the text and were printed in the blog under the title "Francisco Rodriguez, author of the story more punch in the web." Does the author? The bastards had not dared to put their names and had preferred to place the eleven letters of mine.
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