Since I've arrived from the other side, pale as the light of the moon, a child came near, not even very tall, impeccably radiant white shirt and white pants crossed in the center as is custom. She saw him arrive and well noted that he dragged his sandals, but while he never identified himself, she recognized her brother, Crispin, gone away for years, and of whom they hadn't heard anything in so long they considered him dead. For that reason, seeing him and screaming with joy was all in one. Later, after calming herself, she greeted him:
--Good evening, Crispin. What brings you here at this hour?
--Is it you, Pilar? Good evening. I'm here to visit Tata Bonifacio.
--Solely for that, brother?
--Exclusively for that; poor man he died seven years ago.
Crispin went still, crossed his arms and looked at her smiling happily.
Pilar also looked. The cemetery was sadly at rest. Rotting wood crosses cast morose shadows about them.
After a brief pause, he asked:
"How long have you been here, Pilar?"
--Good evening, Crispin. What brings you here at this hour?
--Is it you, Pilar? Good evening. I'm here to visit Tata Bonifacio.
--Solely for that, brother?
--Exclusively for that; poor man he died seven years ago.
Crispin went still, crossed his arms and looked at her smiling happily.
Pilar also looked. The cemetery was sadly at rest. Rotting wood crosses cast morose shadows about them.
After a brief pause, he asked:
"How long have you been here, Pilar?"
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