My feet don't hardly make no sound
Walking on, walking on the moon (Sting, Walking on the Moon)
That is what it feels like to walk through the place called Las Torres, just over 20 minutes from Fiambala on Route 60, on the way to San Francisco, where the Loro Huasi slope. "Ahisito nomás!"
You enter through the white stone wall adorned with green, perhaps the crater wall of a meteorite.
The lunar silence is heard in the corners where the breeze does not give. In the silence, you can hear your own breathing, sometimes even your heartbeat.Se sospecha el engaño a poco de caminar, torres? o quizás los restos fosilizados de antiguos Gigantes.
Later vestiges of other beings that inhabited the scene years ?, centuries? behind. Vegetables, animals, beings from other worlds?
Green. Jarillas, and trees, Algarrobos. Signs of the water that once a year irrigates these ravines.
We are not on the moon.
It is the Earth to which we belong. We are just there from Fiambalá.
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