Lista de espera

Look, this is the small kid
of my younger son.

He's very nice!
This picture wasn't taken
in Cuba.

No, this is in Las Palmas,
in the Canaries.

Imagine that I arrived
in Cuba at the age of 20.

And with time, I could buy some land,
I got married.

And my son, who is an engineer,
has become Spanish.

4 years ago.
That's life. Some leave, some come.
My paperbox!
Is there anybody?
What's happening?
There is water...

The tap is broken and
the wash-hand basin is stopped.

It smells like meat.
Meat? I don't sense anything.
Chopped meat.
There has to be a can,
in some corner.

I recognize this smell.
Let me search.
Look! There's a can.
But it's old, it is rusted.
What a sense of smell you have!
It never misleads me, comrade.
That feels like fresh meat,
from a box which has just been opened...

The small yellow and red box,
with meat
and tomatos drawn above...

This is what I feel.
but I'm so hungry, I could be wrong.
What a son of a bitch!
Look at this!
What is that?
There are people who abuse!
The stations,