Family secrets live in the corners of our being and our mind embarrassing us, damaging us, becoming a weight and a group of invisible whispers with which we are born and that accompany us until our death. Filling us with unanswered questions that hide in themselves the nature of human beings and their unresolved conflicts, so the main question becomes: how much will fit in a newborn body that will be filling itself by its own reverberating secret echoes throughout its new life?

The text of this piece whispers a very concrete secret that is rarely talked about at home:

“My mother’s grandfather was tall, they say he was handsome, he was a fascist. They threw him into the sea, they hit him with a shot of grace. I still see him, you don’t? “

The sons of the man thrown into the sea- my great uncles- had to go into exile for life soon after their father was killed, as they were communists.

Thus, while in Franco’s Spain people could not talk about their comunist relatives, in current times, it hurts to me to think that there was a fascist in our own family.