[...] Retorno y recuento. Nadie vuelve, incluso a los lugares donde se fue feliz. Quien escribe ha regresado. Cuenta. Levísima es la suerte a la que doy memoria. Levísima la suerte que es Daniela. Para ella esta memoria que entrecruza sucesos, como entrecruza personas y senderos.

Transitados por mí, o por los otros, cobran su sentido último en esa hora en que es pensado: descifrado ya en el libro virtual, intentó quien escribe descifrarlo en esta otra realidad.

La duración de las altas horas es ese tiempo en el mundo invertido: el tiempo en que acaso sucedemos y somos.

Teresa Melo

"This book flows like nursing my daughter flowed through the late hours. Rocked by those body rythms, all limits shaped by them, words silently became one with the act itself, like a dream state, like ideas turned liquid.

(...) I return and tell my story again. No one returns, even to those places where they were happy. The one who writes has returned. She speaks. The moments to which I give memory are infinitely light. Daniela is light. This remembering is for her, it intertwines events as it intertwines people and paths.

Trod upon by me, or by the others, they retrieve their ultimate meaning at this imaginary moment: deciphered now in the virtual book, and she who writes attempts to decipher it in that other reality.

The late hours is time in an inverted world: a time, perhaps, in which we happen and are."

Teresa Melo