A good smoke by Juan Moreno Huertos

As I stood in front of the enlarged portrait, the same sensations arose, but something else revealed itself to me. Something more important that I had not noticed before, just like the image surfacing in the bath of the dark room; their gazes looked empty. Like their eyes were open but they weren’t seeing anything. Like their expressions were being hidden in the past. And so, my mission to find out about them was born, who they were and how they lived, so that their astonished gazes would suddenly light up with meaning and they would hand over their deepest secrets to me.

De candil a candela de Juan Moreno Huertos

De la foto familiar de mis abuelos en medio de sus cinco hijas y sus dos varones, foto de pequeño tamaño en la que increíblemente cabía familia tan numerosa, me quedaba un recuerdo que, al igual que la propia foto,  había dejado arrinconado y que no era lo suficientemente vivo para motivarme a escribir esta historia. Todo empezó cuando el otro día, al dar con ella, decidí ampliarla, quizá por un miedo irracional a que siguiese menguando hasta desaparecer del todo, como ocurre con muchos  recuerdos.