We will not lie to you: this is the best job in the world. That is why everybody wants to do it. But you have to be fit for it. Just think that your preys are already there. The difficult part is going after them. You will have to when, where and how to find them.
This is the best job in the world, but it ain’t easy. We will prepare you, we will train you, and when we are done, you will believe that you were never able to do anything else. You will learn to capture crossroads, to fish absences, to catalog silences. We will teach you the secret entomology, the universal classification of sighs. You will nail tears in your wall with pins made of night. You will steal the aches of the tress and spread them in the wind like cards. You will have fun. There is nothing like swinging from the grizzled beard of November. You will crack locks sealed with chained words. You will feel like a hero. You will feel like Borges.
‘tis the best job in the world, but it demands effort. You will look for empty beds, ajar windows, pauses between beats. You will distinguish flowers by their song. You will take note of every doubt, every interlude, every held breath. You will wear the goblin’s skin, the succubus’. God’s. We will explain you how to slip through the back door of disappointment, how long you have to crouch and wait not to scare the ocean away. At the end, you will be able to paint fairy tales with the sepia memory of the grandmother in their aching rocking chairs. And you will do it alone. Your preys are already there. You just have to know when, where and how to find them.
So if you have an approximate idea of how much childhood fits in a red balloon, if you can sleep huddled between a walnut’s roots, if you can run faster than the day when it comes through an open window, then, only then, you can stay.
¿Interested? I knew you would be.
Here’s your butterfly net
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