Yesterday morning I ran into the street with a slim girl, dress a little longer than regular, and quite cute, what I thought. I turned to look at her and followed her with his eyes until they turned the corner, so little concerned about it for my encampment as it might have been my own mother. This is common.
was, however, that such a figurine thin air of modest haste to pass unnoticed, such a lack of interest in an ex Badulaque anyone who turned face is waiting for her turn again, so complete indifference, in short , which I loved, though I was the Badulaque that was at that time.
Although I had nothing to do, I followed her and stood in the corner. In the middle of the block she crossed and entered a house porch high.
The girl had a very tight dark suit and socks. Now, I want to tell me if there is one thing they miss more time to follow in imagination the body of a girl very well Causeway climbing a ladder. I do not know if she had the steps, but I swear I was right in one number and we came together at once into the hall.
stop watching it, then. But I wanted to deduct the condition of the girl in the appearance of the house, and went on, on the sidewalk opposite.
Well, on the wall of the same house, and a large bronze plate, I read: DOCTOR
SWINDENBORG
DIETARY PHYSICAL Physical dietary
! All right. It was the least that could happen to me this morning. Following a monkey blue dress girl, make her an ideal next step ascent to conclude ... Physical
diet ...! Ah, no! That was not my place, indeed! Dietitians! What the hell was I to do with an anemic girl, daughter of a physicist or pensioner diet? Who can happen basting, as a sheet, these two disparate terms: love and diet? It was not all that a promise of bliss, indeed. Dietary ...! No, by God! If something to eat, and eat well, is love. Love and diet ... No, a thousand devils!
This was yesterday morning. Today things have changed. I've returned to them, on the same street, and let the beauty of the day or have guessed in my eyes who knows what dietary religious vocation, the truth is that I looked.
"Today I have seen ... I've seen ... and looked at me ... "
Ah, no! I confess I did not think at the very end of the stanza. What I thought was this: what should be the torture of a great and noble love, constantly subjected to an ineffable ecstasy diet ...
But I looked, this has no doubt. I followed, as the day before, and as the day before, while with a stupid smile was dreaming after patent leather shoes, I came across a bronze plaque:
SWINDENBORG DOCTOR DIETARY PHYSICAL
Ah! That is, none of what I was dreaming it could be true? ; Was possible that after the velvety eyes of my girl had not only a promise of heavenly love diet?
I think so, no doubt, because today, barely an hour ago, she just look in the same street and on the same block, and read clearly in his eyes the joy of seeing my eyes clear up a brotherly love Dietary ...
been forty days. I no longer know what to say, unless I'm dying of love for my girl's feet in a dark suit ... And if not at his feet, at least by his side, because I'm her boyfriend and go to his house all day.
dying of love ... And yes, dying for love, because it has no other name is exhausted worship without blood. My memory is sometimes lacking, but I well remember the night I got to ask.
There were three people in the dining room because I received in the dining room: father, aunt and herself. The dining room was very large, poorly lit and very cold. I heard Dr. Swindenborg standing, looking at me without saying a word. The aunt looked at me too, but wary. She, my Nora, sat at the table and did not rise.
I said all I had to say, and I stared too. In that house could have everything, but what is trouble, no. Passed a time yet, and the father looked at me forever. He had a huge hairy above, and hands in his pockets. He wore a thick scarf around his neck and a big beard.
- Are you quite sure to love the girl? "She said at last.
- Oh, what's that! "I replied.
not answer anything, but I kept looking.
- Do you eat a lot? I asked. Regular, "I replied, trying to smile.
Aunt then opened my mouth and pointed with his finger as he points to a table:
"Mr. should eat a lot ... "He said. The father turned his head to her: "Never mind
objected. We could not put obstacles in its path ... And turning this time to his daughter, without taking your hands from the pockets:
"This gentleman wants to make love you" he said. What do you want?
She quietly looked up and smiled: "I
, yes," he replied.
"Well," the doctor said to me, pushing his shoulder .Usted is already in the house, sit down and eat with us.
I sat in front of her and had dinner. What I ate that night, I do not know, because I was overjoyed with the love of my Nora. But I know what we ate after, morning and night, for lunch and dinner with them every day. Everyone knows
nice taste you have tea, and this is not no secret. Clear soups are also predispose tonic and affability.
Well, tomorrow morning, night after night, we made soups and a light tea. The broth is food, and tea is the dessert, nothing more.
For a whole week I can not say it was happy. At the bottom of all of us an instinct which can hardly brutal rebellion is defeated. At three in the afternoon, after the fight and that rancor from the stomach itself addressing hunger, the constant protest of the blood in turn converted into a cold, clear soup, these things are not the wish to anyone , even if in love.
A whole week the original beast fought to drive the teeth. Today I am calm. My heart beats in time is forty-sixty. I do not know what it is to turmoil and violence, and it's hard to imagine that the beautiful eyes of a girl evoke nothing but an ineffable and cold that the smoke of two cups of tea.
the morning do not take anything, by paternal advice of a doctor. At noon we broth and tea, and evening soup and tea. My love, purified in this way, every day becomes a transparency that only people who turn themselves after a serious bleeding can understand. New
days have passed. Philosophies have regular stuff and sometimes some bad things. But Dr. Swindenborg-hairy in his overcoat and scarf around his neck is imbued with the highest ideal. From everything I have been on the street, there is no trace. The only thing that lives in me, out of my great weakness is my love. And I can not but admire the elevation of soul doctor, when you follow with eyes of pride my faltering step closer to his daughter.
ever, at first, tried to take the hand of my Nora, and she agreed not to get upset. The doctor saw him and looked at me with paternal tenderness. But tonight, instead of at eight, dined at eleven. We took only a cup of tea.
do not know, however, what Spring burial that afternoon I had sucked on the street. After dinner I wanted to repeat the adventure, and I only had the strength to raise his hand and dropping inert on the table, smiling weakness as a creature.
The doctor had dominated the last shake of the beast.
Nothing since. Throughout the day, all over the house, but two sleepwalkers are not love. I have no strength except to sit by his side, and thus spend hours, extraterrestrial ice happiness, a smile fixed on the walls.
One of these days will find me dead, I'm sure. I do not do the slightest recrimination Swindenborg doctor, because if my body could not resist this easy test my love, however, appreciated how much of negligible illusion goes up with the body of a black girl who climbs a ladder. No blame, therefore anyone of my death. But those who happened to hear me, I give this advice from a man who was a day like them
Never, ever, in the most remote, ever, put your eyes on a girl who has too much or little to do with a physical diet.
And here's why: Dr.
Religion Swindenborg-ideality the highest I have ever known, and this vainglorious me to die for she has but one fault, and it is this: have joined in an embrace of Love and solidarity to the Diet. I know muchas religiones que rechazan el mundo, la carne y el amor. Y algunas de ellas son notables. Pero admitir el amor, y darle por único alimento la dieta, es cosa que no se le ha ocurrido a nadie. Esto es lo que yo considero una falla del sistema; y acaso por el comedor del doctor vaguen de noche cuatro o cinco desfallecidos fantasmas de amor, anteriores a mí.
Que los que lleguen a leerme huyan, pues, de toda muchacha mona cuya intención manifiesta sea entrar en una casa que ostenta una gran chapa de bronce. Puede hallarse allí un gran amor, pero puede haber también muchas tazas de té.
Y yo sé lo que es esto.
HORACIO QUIROGA
"More volumes of Ghosts Are likely to Appear in the future" 
