Posted in challenges



I don’t know his name. I only know that he is poor and he seems extremely tired. He arrives every morning to the main square of my city, chooses an empty bench and begins to play his old accordion hoping to collect some coins from the people passing by, hurrying to get to their jobs or go shopping. There are many beggars playing the accordion in my city. They are terrible. A pain for the ears. But this one is different. This one is a real musician. He plays beautifully a wide repertoire of melodies. And he remains alone and silent in his bench, in a dignified attitude, while his fingers fly over the keys of the instrument, the look lost somewhere far away, maybe trying to remember the horizons of his lost homeland.



Journalist. In my fifties. I've worked for 26 years in a newspaper in Spain. I worked for two years as a stringer and correspondent in the US, and went as a special envoy to other places like the Balkans. Sea lover. Avid reader. Classic Music enthusiast.

One thought on “Face

What do you think?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s