Shameless theft - you know the drill. This is my latest, A fire Unseen, into Spanish and back again. Occasionally I seize the smell of a fire invisible, being burned in some place, and they remember me of the times dedicated with a bulging friend long ago in the industrial sunken park that was the stage to our wars, our deaths, our fears. To our ignorance and innocence. High hills in a side, a concrete búnker to stoop in the corner. And forever the smell of an invisible fire, incineration in some place.