Rodolfo Parra

You lay on your desk while the sun shone treacherously just on you. You rested your head on your elbow, drawing stars on your wrist with your free hand. You were just doing it out of boredom. The professor was monotonously reading some text, and you were passionately drawing crooked stars with a pen.

You started yawning, and then you looked at your hand, which was covered with many blue stars. Masterpiece. You could only hope that by the next day this painting would wash off your skin.

A classmate who was sitting next to you noticed what you were doing. He took the palm of your hand, pressing on the core with his thumb, and turned your hand slightly toward him.

"Bonito" — He whispered. A quiet chuckle escaped his lips.

He picked up a pen and started drawing stars on your hand too. They were crooked, then big, then small, not like yours.

"Mejor, ¿no crees?" — he mumbled, not taking his eyes off your hand.