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| LA RECTA PROVINCIA |
Este era un hombre. Vivía con su madre. Cuidaba una casa patronal, en el campo de Chile. Un día el hombre encontró un hueso en el jardín.
El hueso estaba agujereado. Era una flauta ese hueso. El hombre toco música con esa flauta. Y la música se volvió canción. La voz de la canción suplicaba que buscaran los otros huesos de su cuerpo disperso. El hombre y su madre se fueron por esos caminos de Dios y de los mil demonios, buscando los huesos con que componer el esqueleto de aquel cristiano. Y darle santa sepultura. Y vieron lo que vieron, vivieron lo que vivieron. Muchas historias vivieron. Y aunque no se la contaron a nadie, otros la contaron por ellos.
Once upon a time there was a man. He lived with his mother, and worked as the caretaker of a large country house in Chile. One day the man found a bone in the garden. The bone had holes in it - it was a flute. The man took the flute and began to play it. The music turned into a song, and the voice singing the song begged the man to look for the other bones of a body scattered here and there. So the man and his mother set off following every path – that of God and those of the devil -, looking for the bones so that they could put the skeleton of the Christian man back together again and give him a Christian burial. And they saw what they saw, and lived what they lived. Many a story. And although they never told their tale to anyone, others told it for them.
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