Under Columbus´s boat, where the sea crashes against sharp volcanic rocks with thunderous roars, I look at the people below, and behind me the dark waves seem movie-like.
Gray, tumultuous clouds linger overhead, and the wind is cool, and comfortable.
Another short moment in my life soon to be gone forever; to be replaced by other short moments, until another young man stands in my place with his own pen and notebook, and replaces me by writing his own version, his own accounts.
And I will no longer be.
Until then, I am…