Julio Cortázar. Had often this time as a child, she awoke with a start. I took out of sleep, suddenly, a sharp sound. Strange and unfamiliar.
wept and her mother went to bed. "It's a rooster," he said. "Do not be scared." And the little Cortázar-blue eyes almost liquid-kept crying, heartbroken, because I knew it was a rooster, and the n ame it was much more threatening than his singing.
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