Still memory when I saw, came walking slow. They presented/displayed to us, the first contact it memory vaguely. I deposit somebody it in the table, something swaying due to the paved with stones pavement of songs rollings. It was not a table dressed for the occasion, either the chairs. Its design had to a certain Heineken. The green color, green bottle. It approaches it the eyes, wanted to see his label him. It wanted to know it.

White bottom, letters sea breams. French, perhaps. The excitation was increased per moments. Bullicio in the terrace, came from other tables, but it gave the sensation of which everything turned ours around. Without waiting for it I caressed, it, was cold, rather lukewarm.

My hands if that were cold, and sweaty. It did not find the moment, wished so much it. Nobody took the great step, nobody wanted to see its spirit, to contemplate it. The dusk offered a habitual temperature little us, the square and its acacias. The Abbatial, slim and quiet tower, ignited its light creating an intimate atmosphere and an atmosphere expectant. A white shirt approaches and somebody says to him that it puts canes chilly and that prepares the best glasses of the premises, worthy of a queen. Riedel did not have there been, reason why we were satisfied to a fine crystal and is transparent. I was not the unique one who wanted to discover his secret. Surrounding it, mimando it, we were a group of people. It seemed as if we tried hide-and-seek of the rest of the humanity, and indeed, if that rest were shortage its presence, some drastic determination we would have had to take.