Waffle Cone Recipe Martha Stewart

Amadeo expected that night that happened just as all night. Truly expected nothing but the day ended like so many others. The man was a guy in his forties, short and somewhat rested and prematurely bald. The same condition gave him a look of old, and added that it is seriously frowned and on-demand, which seemed to begin or complete their half baldness. Amadeo Luna got off the bus, which continued its race to the south. lit a cigarette, as was their custom before reaching the house, so your mother does not claim at the smoke, the cough and asthma that plagued. Calmly loaded the bread bag on one shoulder, with special joy and blew the last of his cigarettes. Came to light several times, which used to press a button to cross the street, pressed it, sat the bag on the other shoulder and stepped on the cigarette smoking to extinguish. Right index finger straightened his glasses, and crossed the road quickly.

Once on the other hand, he turned suddenly to probe behind their backs. It seemed that someone was watching her walk and was neglected. A strange aura was standing next to the round pillar of light that he had turned before crossing. He did not know for sure if the profile or imagined watching what was there before him. Readjusted his glasses, not believing what appeared to be in seconds, an image without form, and others, a figure almost perfect himself. He took off his glasses in a stupid gesture. He put the bag on the floor pan. His shoes added two steps to the sidewalk, back. At the edge of the street stopped to watch silent, the shadow, which could now identify their own face, also pressed the same button used. Burning transpired, as always in the evenings at the bakery where he worked, when the shadow with their own ways, eased the stride to leave the sidewalk directly into it. He did not know whether to flee, stay there motionless as he was, or to cross to him. He was surprised frozen in sweat, telling a cop the abuse had occurred. Looked slightly the deceased, frown somewhat stiff and bald head, while recognizing these distinctive marraquetas scattered around him.
Work: Women and bird under the moonlight, Joan Miró