It was 7 PM by the time we reached the top. Neatly-cut grass and a huge metallic monument in honor of Che. We take a seat at the edge with our feet dangling and the whole of Santa Clara below us. There are breezes everywhere. And he starts talking about mountains and coffee and crazy cousins. There´s a cactus nearby with names written all over it. I see one side with the names Fernando and Isabel carved into it. Then another with the name Armando crossed out. There´s a boy lying on my chest and the sky is just beginning to turn pink. We see the sun falling slowly. And i think about how golden this all is.
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