
“Sal…¡ven! ¡Ven aquí!”
I dropped my shovel and walked over to his house. Jesús whipped-out a cylindrical, foil-covered package and handed it to me.
“Wild boar sausage. I killed it myself. Very good with a glass of wine.”
I don’t know how many Hashers suffered bullet wounds so that I could be eating wild boar sausage (and drinking a glass of wine) while typing this post…but it was indeed a worthy sacrifice.
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again…Jesús is just alright with me.
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