Juan Rulfo Quote
I am lying in the same bed where my mother died so long ago; on the same mattress,beneath the same black wool coverlet she wrapped us in to sleep. I slept beside her, herlittle girl, in the special place she made for me in her arms.I think I can still feel the calm rhythm of her breathing; the palpitations and sighs thatsoothed my sleep. . . . I think I feel the pain of her death. . . . But that isn't true.Here I lie, flat on my back, hoping to forget my loneliness by remembering those times.Because I am not here just for a while. And I am not in my mother's bed but in a black boxlike the ones for burying the dead. Because I am dead.I sense where I am, but I can think. . .
I am lying in the same bed where my mother died so long ago; on the same mattress,beneath the same black wool coverlet she wrapped us in to sleep. I slept beside her, herlittle girl, in the special place she made for me in her arms.I think I can still feel the calm rhythm of her breathing; the palpitations and sighs thatsoothed my sleep. . . . I think I feel the pain of her death. . . . But that isn't true.Here I lie, flat on my back, hoping to forget my loneliness by remembering those times.Because I am not here just for a while. And I am not in my mother's bed but in a black boxlike the ones for burying the dead. Because I am dead.I sense where I am, but I can think. . .
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