The sun played at disappearing behind the clouds, abandoning the Spanish coast to warm and persistent rain. Under the awning of an old apartment overlooking the sea, Andolini and Ulysses killed boredom in silence. A dull tension stirred their gestures, an impatient desire that nothing could seem to calm. Then Arjona appeared. The beautiful Brazilian crossed the balcony with that insolent elegance possessed by those who don’t yet know the effect they produce. Andolini immediately looked up. In that suspended moment, there was something fascinating.
