International Women´s Day
Walking down the road holding hands with my 5 year-old. She wants ice-cream. There is not ice-cream today, too much sugar! She throws herself to the floor and screams as if someone is eating her eyes.
I think in all those men stuffing the Bible. Men and more men. Jonás, Matusalén, San Marcos, Lázaro. My daughter spies on me hiding her watery look behind her fingers. She shouts. She and I, we are alone. I am everything for her. The silence, the sound, the decisions, the clothes, the medicines, the sleeping-time and also, the ice-cream.
I think in all those men, presidents of all the countries in the planet, during all times in history. Washington, Kennedy, Mitterrand, Hirohito, Gorbachov, Idi Amin. And the head returns to the supermarket. Bananas, milk, oats, ice-cream… It is going to close, and my baby does not want to stand up.
I think in those women which are not lonely planets to their children. Women without names, without Bible and without countries to carry to disaster, but with one hour a day. One hour in which not to take decisions, in which they are not responsible for another life, a life that you love more than our own.
The supermarket is going to close, and I have a deadline for a paper and another deadline for a grant. I need to hurry.
My little one has passports from Spain and the US but she lives in France. She is going to be so proud of me one day….