The cold

The sea caressed the shore, the waves formed a crown of white foam. The children played happily, it was a hot summer day, the weather invited you to jump in, it had been so long since I'd done it. An inner voice told me «go on, dare, the water must be warm». I thought: our coasts are cold, don't do it. While I struggled with these thoughts, I walked along the shore.

I don't know how it happened, in an instant I found myself covered by a wave that made me lose my balance, the cold of the water finally woke me up.

How good a big towel would feel right now, or the old terry robes, to dry off and stop shivering. I thought: hot day, yes, but out of the water.

Thousands of childhood memories came back to me, the coastal promenade, the beaches of Vicente López, the bathing resorts, with the whole family. The trips to Tigre, the outings in gangs with the group of friends (not like the ones now). In those years we felt no cold going into the water and if someone chickened out we'd splash them to force them in. To think that a single word, «cold», can wake so many memories. And memory, what does it tell us? You see, I still exist.