The French 
A
Old Bridge
- Makes about twenty years my mom and my grandmother, who died, emigrated from Argentina to Ecuador, as my mother has about 78 when Argentina was the world, my grandmother started talking a series of blunders and ended up going crazy. My "fat" as I say I love my mother came to live in Guayaquil to zoom out to my "grandfather" of all the drama of Old Bridge where they lived before.
That was the first thing I told the French that she came of Argentina and of course used to talk much, I thought if I told her about my background, it would feel familiar and we could talk about something every time you leave your room to the hall but did not. She made no comment and I kept talking.
- A few days before the age of fifteen I took a trip with some friends, we took a tour to Argentina and so I know my origins. We had fun.
was sure he knew that telling Argentina, could capture their attention and talk about something so common, but I turned it wrong.
I know I listened but seemed to be inattentive My words faded into the air and I never got any emotion on his face the whole time I was gone, was an attractive woman and one man did not know him, the mystery that surrounded it led me to conclude that hiding something dangerous, however it I was excited and insisted on talking to me whenever the opportunity arose.
My presence disturbed him because they already left the room at the usual time, my mom brought her food to the room. The days passed and I missed those meetings, I was obsessed with the idea of \u200b\u200bmaking even speak a word all day waiting at the usual place.
One day finally came out of his room and I was there, he planned what he would say and I was sure that this time would get their attention.
- My grandfather told me that when it was thirty-nine years came to the city a couple of French newlyweds live in Old Bridge and set up a hairdressing salon. The barber's wife was a woman provocative as the men in town and a day, a backpacker who began to frequent the salon every week. And everyone thought that the wife of the barber and backpackers were lovers.
I paused to see what I answered but remained silent, gave no importance because he knew that by the end of my story would get full attention.
- One day the two disappeared mysteriously and then it was rumored that they had fled or had killed the barber, strangely concluded that they were dead.
I went to take a break and nothing, so I kept talking.
- An old gossip began digging around the village to find the bodies and found a dog eating a dead man's hand so that was where he brought the sheriff and more men with shovels to dig, but were surprised, they found two bodies but several.
I did not make any break because he knew it was going to say nothing, but kept the hope that by the end said everything in the course of history had not said.
- The sheriff reported to his superiors when he returned he gave the order to bury the bodies again and no one spoke of what happened. After a few days was the wife of the barber. And everyone blamed the death of backpacker, "but" forgot "to mention the other bodies (needed a guilty) - so he had to flee.
I was disappointed and puzzled that the French I could not talk to me, she just stopped and went to his room.
The dinner did not go so my mom went to her room to let the food, but my mom did not respond as ordered to tear down the door and there was the French hung from the ceiling, dead ...
