How To Make Suction Cups Stick On Tiles

At Easter / Emilia Pardo Bazán

[Story. Full Text]

At the head of the dying were Precious and Conrad, assisting him in his last moments, trembling as the criminal who climbs the stairs of the gallows. And criminals were criminals, but triumphant and crowned Destination-blind by Conrad and Preciosa. Which, after long suffering, succumbed in the fourth, steeped in smells medicinal drugs, saddened by the yellow light of the lamp, which was extinguished at par with the life of the dying was the husband of Preciosa, the protector and benefactor of Conrad, and for which, by common consent, deceived him and offended his gray hair, never had that old very honest, generous and trusting as a child, but words of kindness and acts of kindness and love. Conrad always open his bag and his house is always open arms and hearts to Preciosa, whose youth did not want to ever sad and melancholy old severities of ill, unhappy was entitled to the gratitude and respect more tender and serious ... and others can not inspire passionate feelings senescence.


And now he died, was dying slowly ... after warning Precious was instituted his sole heir, and if he felt distaste for Conrad, whom he watched as a child, he wanted them both promise to marry at the end of mourning.

When expressed their willingness, his voice faint and weak, and supporting their hands and cold, in the hands of Conrad and Precious fever, both shook, and his eyes, as criminals try to hide and do not know where, roamed the ground, laden with the weight of shame. Beautiful, however, women and extreme in passion, was the first he regained courage and reacting violently, tried to catch the eye of Conrad and pay with a weak smile. But Conrad, as if sensing snake bites, retired to the back of the room and, dropping into the crystal he hid in the palms face. A barely perceptible dying syllabication called again to the bedside.

-Conrado, look: I who begs at this solemn moment ... Precious stranded Do not leave ... That is your wife and love her and treat her ..., as I wanted ... Even for the day that we ... give me word.

And Conrad, stammering, could only sputter:

-La give, I give ...

wore a happy spark in the lifeless eyes of the dying, but as if the effort had exhausted the little force he had, fell into a doze, nuncio of the end. Such was the opinion of the physician, who advised you bring the Extreme without delay, but to get the priest with holy oil had no vital heat in the body; Precious knees crying, and Conrad, disquietude, pacing desperately up and down the cabinet that preceded the burial room ... The priest, who came out and touched him gently on the shoulder.

-No you grieve affectionate tone, "he said, mistaking him for a painful acute remorse access. The virtues of this man will have earned a place in heaven. And then God's mercy, especially on the day we are! ...

was the second time that this phrase ringing in the ears of Conrad, but now sounded, rather than in the ears, the soul. It's dying! "The day that we ..." What day was it? Conrad needed to remember, reflect ... Remembered suddenly, a lightning struck his imagination strongly. The day was Friday.

few moments after he had retired discreetly the priest, who promised to return to watch the body, went up on tiptoe Precious Conrad and was terrified of his attitude, motion made to see it so soon. What misfortune! Conrad did not love her, filled him with horror Conrad since death had penetrated there ... Sensed the mood of his accomplice, and wary of the future, sought to dispel this cloud of sadness, that disturbance of consciousness impure. "If the corpse candle tonight, will be more concerned, be recorded on your spirit is doubly terrible impression ..." An idea came to mind Beautiful, fertile in expedients, courageous, and female passionate, and determined to achieve his wish.

entered the mortuary room, and inlaid furniture, facing the bed sought, among other bottles, which contained powerful narcotic. A drop soothed and drowsy, numbed two, three or four produced and the long sleep, invincible, very durable, semilethal ... Soon, Precious Conrad approached and poured again into their own hands a cup of lime juice.

-Baby, you're nervous. Conrado
drank
machine; drank the tea soothing ... When he began to notice some undeniable heaviness, Precious led him to his own room, I leaned on the broad couch, covered padded satin and lace, with a rich handkerchief flung Manila, lightweight duvet wrapped her feet, put pillows under her neck fine. "Sleep, sleep, he thought, and not wake up until you are away from home" the other "."

Conrad, meanwhile, opened his eyes, shook the dream of lead which had prostrate and rubbed his eyelids, noting that the site that was not the elegant bedroom of his tantalizing Beautiful, but a hill road, paved with rough slabs and wide, on which the sun beat down burning and shining, and spring in a hot country. He looked around. At his feet lay a city that seemed to know much. Where had he seen those pointy towers, those large bastions, fortified him, those conical houses, that monumental temple, those narrow doors, shady, under which crossed camels and oxen led by men of swarthy complexion?

The dress of these men also fancied to Conrad, though strange, "view" once, not reality, but in sculptures and paintings as it was the Jewish clothing of the poor people in time of Augustus, "the" Chitune "or close-fitting tunic, the tallith or mantle," sudaz "surrounding the temples, the girdle that adjusts the clothing and bare feet or tucked into worn leather sandals. Conrad thought he heard a voice persuasive, perhaps out of the depths of his being whispered mysteriously

- "That city is Jerusalem."

Jerusalem! Conrado hardly admired, Jerusalem was not for him an exotic location. In Jerusalem he had thought many times! Child, by birth who was preparing his mother, he had become acquainted with Jerusalem. Home in Jerusalem was his spirit, his faith had their own home. The only thing he felt was immense joy ... imagine returning from a long exile.

A group of people crowding the door set Conrado care. Instinctively followed the group. In a way both sides defending cacti hedges and palms and vines fringed, rose of Jericho and fig leaf and covered, led the group to rough hill, highlighting its hard lines on the horizon violet. Swarmed a crowd on the hill, swarming the foot, and remained motionless on their sturdy steeds legionaries, whose coats of mail and shields glittered. Dominating the crowd, capping the scene, bristling the hill stood three black crosses on which rose porphyry statues seemed, from afar, the bodies of the three executed ... Conrado then

neither surprised, nor was believed toy delirium. On the contrary: that was entered was attending, not a drama, the representation of truth itself. That scene, that triple crucifixion and, above all, one of the crosses, he had entered since the early days of childhood. If he wins, was when, holding itself could not see or contemplate, when he vanished, as fades the face of a loved one wanting to rebuild closing his eyes ... What a joy to have back-clear vision, concrete, firm, indubitable, "the Cross", not a cross of gold, silver or bronze, but the Cross alive, the tree to the point it warms the body heat of the divine, and the redeeming blood soaked! Conrad, without breath, as quick as I was, was this group, tart up the hill, trampling the dry dust and prickly thorns of the incident Golgotha, dotted with white human bones scorched the sun ... His desire was to stand near the Cross, to see the face of the Lord in the supreme hour.

the company was difficult. Increasingly compact seething crowd. As in dreams, every obstacle that Conrad managed to overcome, there was a rise over insurmountable. Nobody wanted to make way. Pastors of the mountain, and traders of the city tenderillos, ragged women with children starving in the arms, haughty Pharisees, Essenes pale and pitied, daughters of Jerusalem, modest bourgeois, who lowered their eyes filled with tears when he saw the tortures of the Master, and finally, the horse soldiers, upright spear, were crossed to prevent anyone but the circle of string and stakes that surrounded the gallows. Conrad pleaded, clenched his fists, he wanted to infiltrate, to reach the central Cruz, higher than the others, which hung Jesus wanted to see him alive, before time, bending his head, exclaim: "Everything is over." Distress Conrad Deep empowered. Did you get when the Savior was dead? And bathed in sweat, wistful, eager, running, running towards the hill, which is always contained more distant.

His eyes then spotted a woman clinging to the tree itself of the Cross, and without noticing that the woman was almost fainting from grief, noting only that a woman "also knew he shouted with an effort

- Mary, Mary of Nazareth!, alárgame hand, I want to get to your Son.

And Mary of Nazareth, trembling, his eyes swollen, tragic attitude, came forward, held out his hand, covered by a fold of the mantle, and Conrad immediately found himself at the foot of the tree, so close that the sound of labored breathing of the dying man he imagined a hurricane. However, he thought with joy: "Vive! Vive! Can you hear me yet! "

and forehead lifting, bending his knees, putting his mouth on the bloody club, near the holy feet, Conrad sighed

- Jesus, Jesus, do not leave me!

And, oh, wonder!, A sweet voice in tears, replied, from top:

"You're the one who left me for years, Conrad. Do not you remember? Deep

shaking experienced Conrad. A sharp knife of grief, contrition, stuck in his chest looked anxiously upward Jesus had bowed his head, the sun was veiled behind very black cloud, the earth shook, convulsed, to plants Conrad opened a crack horrible, almost an abyss .. ., and the sinner, stunned, dropped to the face from dust and rocks stark ...

Upon awakening from its long sleep Conrado artificial, Precious was there, dressed in black, but beautiful, fresh, relaxed, watching the moment to strengthen his arms around the sleeper. This

stood, still dazed, without knowing an exact account of what happened ...

Beautiful, smiling, wished to flatter, to be for his life reborn on the edge of a grave. Conrad, without harshness, rejected, and measured pace, firm without tipping already clear his head, went into the room, opened the door, slammed it and ran into the street ... A gentle breeze caressed her temples.

was the morning of Easter Sunday.