(another reading, another version)
The old man sat in the big chair at the Cá door every morning. The sun came in through
his legs. The old man, perspiring in the big-chair, moved back to his origin. He’s a
strange old man, said the passersby, he’s a very strange old man, who sits down and
picks up the sun. One morning, the Cá door did not open. The sun comes and goes, a
white bird pecks at husks. No longer will there be an old man sitting down in the big
chair at the Cá door picking up the sun. With their rat noises they occupied
the house. Seeds sprouted, blizzards, broken glass. No longer will there be an old man sitting down
in the big-chair at the Cá door picking up the sun. A white bird pecks at husks. The big-
chair dashed to the corner of the patio, legs up, rains and other plagues go by, and rotten
Juan Carlos Flores, translated by Marta Hernández Salván and Jeffrey Thomson and read by Jeffrey Thomson.
The Chair is from Thomsan's forthcoming collection Many Ways to Dig a Tunnel, translated from the Spanish of Juan Carlos Flores.