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Francisco-Josť Cuenca
Among all of the memories, the old pier. Lying on the crackling boards, I put my hands before my eyes as if they were binoculars and dived into the vastness of the sky. There were no white clouds, only the infinite. The evening wore on. Everything was quiet, I could barely hear the faint sound of the water splashing against the wooden posts. Everything vanished. The houses, the people vanished... Everything was gone. Only a piece of the sky and me remained, diving, invading one another. That evening I felt like peace could be touched.                                                 Isabel María Abellán

Film Music Composer