Name: Cemetery (?)
Location: near metro Hidalgo.
Author: Manuel Velasco
The cemetery at three o'clock near the metro Hidalgo. Buried and sometimes illustrious names do not matter, matter as much as cats that live there. There was a bum in a wheelchair covered by a tarp that I could not take the picture because someone was out there watching. But for people that also was dead. I was drinking and looked just as dead. I do not know what the end of the road. People are more afraid of spiders than death because it seems so real. The streets seem to be dreamed, invented by some sadist who likes his characters are buried. There is silence, there are cats walking by the graves, knowing that there are not going to go after them, they will not kick them or mistreat them. That is the grace of the tomb, and there is no more than take photos of the crypt or exhume the dead body to take to the dump and have someone else take the place. It is not important. The dead do not drink because it was a tough day, the dead do not need that excited. Is a desire to be remembered in life. That night he was drunk, no one was home waiting. Those graves do not seem so bleak, at least there is cat:
The name of someone who certainly does not matter.
a white cat living among the dead.
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