La iniciación del Alcoholatum Project, así lo llama el traductor, surge, en nuestro criterio, como una urgencia para uno de los escritores que dejó su herencia en la Generación Yerba X.
B a b a
Sara was real bad with me that night, when she went to Avernus to get trashed with her lover. Not content screaming she wanted to sleep with me and scaring me every time I touched what only my hands awkwardly manipulate, she had to call me to her table and, after pulling up her dress, show me her sex, which since then has tormented my sleepless dreams.
Babá’s odour is nauseating. It’s as if all bad smells came to live in his body.
Those who know him prefer to ignore it. And if at times they invite Babá to have a drink, it’s only to enjoy themselves at his expense —as always happens— and then to flatter him, they make him buy more drink with the change Babá saves to buy himself that infamous food at fifty centavos a plate.
Babá has neither friends nor hopes.