Un grano de sal
At dawn Polly sits on the lighthouse at the very tip of the town, watches the fishing boats leave, and flies out over the sea with the taste of one grain of salt.
Before you read
Before you read
En su última mañana, Polly voló hasta el final del pueblo. Allí hay un pequeño faro blanco junto al mar, al lado de una iglesia redonda. Desde aquí, el pueblo parecía otra vez un barco.
Las barcas de pesca salieron del puerto una a una. La campana de la torre sonó sobre los tejados. En la plaza, el hombre del violín estaba solo con la primera luz.
Polly todavía sentía el sabor de un grano de sal. La hicieron el mar, el sol y unas manos pacientes, como desde hace más de setecientos años. La sal construyó este pueblo blanco.
Dio una vuelta al pueblo. Luego subió con el viento de la mañana. El barco de piedra se hizo pequeño detrás de ella. El mar delante de ella era ancho y brillante.
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