- "Every day near the roof of my house at exactly eleven o'clock at night, does a helicopter. So point is that even the eleven who are causing the noise. I admit, the first time it happened, I freaked out with the roar, I thought the walls were shaking, I thought it was the advent of the Apocalypse, but it was a helicopter that went very close to the roof of my house. I never knew where it came from or where it is headed, there is no helipad near nor ministries or institutions of any consequence, you may have installed an air route over my roof. I do not know really, but the helicopter, every day, on time, goes through the roof of my house. "
- "When I was little, we lived for a time in a house that was on the outskirts of the city. It was a very big house but had a huge patio, fully wooded. Had so many trees and branches were thick they could not be crossed either by the stronger sunlight of summer. But at certain times of year, more precisely when starting the spring, the trees suffered from a virulent invasion of hairy cats. Were many who had to leave the patio umbrella to prevent you from falling over hairy cats. Naturally, it should cure the trees and the intruders were gone. "
-" In a time, there was a store near my house, which belonged to two people. Each of them attended the premises on different shifts and curiosity is charged by the same products at different prices depending on who was in front. For example, at a certain time of day, you could get beer for two dollars and seven dollars milk but the equation was reversed a few hours later, when the shift changes. Despite this situation, the business stayed open and even grew. Expanded the local owners and hired employees, the latter being the bane of the store. Is that employees began to take the products as sympathy, whim, convenience or other reasons more obscure and difficult to discern by the customer. Thus, depending on the time and the employee, you could buy three hundred grams of raw ham and thirty two and a jar of mayonnaise to twenty pesos. Inevitably, local disappeared and their owners, who have not had more news in the neighborhood. "
-" I was always a stranger in the neighborhood. My friends, my girlfriends, my family, my work, all the people I know, everything that makes up my life in some way, is far from my neighborhood. The only thing that binds me to him is the house, and sleep there but the only thing. On the one hand, has advantages, like not being stuck to the pulse of the place but it is hard to think of a neighbor to ask a favor because no one knows who I am, though I moved a decade ago. So I can not tell any stories, I always lived far from my neighborhood. "
-" The City where I live decided to locate in the busiest areas, a clown in each block. The idea was to cheer people, entertain children and create jobs. The clowns need to walk around the block during your turn and make jokes and funny faces both those who need their service and those who consider the harlequin sad or in need of a smile. Naturally, there were drawbacks. The night shift had to be suspended by the wave assaulted clowns and a few others went to blows with a pedestrian irascible spirit. We all have bad days, so it is difficult to sustain the constant joy and mesmerizing sought by the municipality. "
-" When I was a boy in my neighborhood there was only one store, which was round the corner from my house. When they sent me to buy something, I resigned to the fate that awaited me. It happens that the store was always crowded and, although sometimes the line progressed, the local never emptied. Many stories were woven around the place. Some elderly argued that weighed on him a dark curse, others claimed that in reality, the vast majority clients were actors hired by Don Venancio, the owner of the place, to simulate a success that was elusive. The reality was that the monopoly chance that the store had added to the incompetence, slowness and the loquacity of Don Venancio and his family were generating the long lines. The memories, confused at this point, indicate that some women gave birth waiting to buy through flutes or some upstarts charged to save the place. The truth is that Don Venancio store was swept away by the efficiency, speed and systematization brought hypermarkets. "
-" For a week the phone rang my house every ten minutes between the three and four in the morning. The first day I thought it was part of the dream, until I understood what was happening. In one of the rings reach a deal but when they did, they hung up. And so it was good. I spent an hour with no sleep at night knowing that the phone would ring, biting the sheets to not listen, understanding that, if attended, had to swing. Sometimes not stand the ringing noise, I woke up startled, almost running, and attending only to the other side hung. Then one day, not sounded. Lasted exactly one week. "
-" When we were kids my sister loved to swim. We had a small fiberglass pool in which he spent hours and hours, sometimes spent more time in the pool it was. Both liked to swim until we would become a fish. But what worried us most was not that but the presence of a garden gnome who was very close to the pool. Everyone knows that garden gnomes are evil beings. Always immutable, do not eat, speak, not moving, barely breathing. During the day and night, over the years, remains static and silent spread his aura of malignancy. This in particular was very wicked. Whenever my sister started to swim, he looked at her without saying anything, without gestures, unperturbed during all hours that my sister passed in the pool, the garden gnome just watched. In a couple of times I ran the place, but somehow, he managed to stand back beside the pool and watch my sister swim, she trying to become a fish and he's become a man. "
- "On the roof of my home grown flowers. Not that they grew up, perhaps because of the humidity, maybe the sun, do not know. What is that, slowly, almost asking permission, in between the cracks and crevices that have roof plates, grew flowers. There are beautiful flowers, in contrast, are ugly and flowers have an unpleasant odor, but is understood to be so by the adverse conditions in which they grew. In my house, no one bothers to look after them, nobody waters them, or the pruning, or attempt to embellish. However, they remain there, strong, proud, facing the sun, waiting for the rains. Sometimes when I'm bored, I get to the roof and watch a while, I think nobody will believe me when I count the flowers are pretty ugly roof of my house. "
-" As a child living in a neighborhood where the siesta was inevitable. Only children sag we did our homes and our streets than adults left deserted. During these hours, strange things often happen, that cost us explain. One of the most enduring in my memory was the appearance every so often, maybe once a week, the elder of the apples. Even today bother to dream the image of the brown man in a suit, hat, white hair and walking overpost sugar. I remember clearly his face lined by thousands of wrinkles, good-natured appearance and, above all, her smile wide, warm, harmless, which was etched on his face whenever he spoke or looked at us tenderly, his eyes narrowing. I suspect the old man lived in our neighborhood that I never saw him outside these hours. Approached us politely greeted us and took out a small grocery bag a bright red apple, which we promised to give us if we helped in a small task. Something in his aspect, deep in his eyes, told me that I should not accompany him and, by instinct, always ending was awful. The old man seemed unmoved, just assured us he was coming back, smiling, and, a few days back with the same proposal. Until one day, did not return. Never told anyone about this or knew who was truly the elder of the apples. "
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