UnclePepe andmydad

He took the rest of them and said:”We are going to throw away all the red records”. My dad didn’t like it, because she wanted to tear them up along with his Marxist books, as my mom calls them. He asked him to leave at least the Quilapayún record for him. Because uncle Pepe gave them to him for his birthday. I felt sorry that my mom still threw all of them away. What she doesn’t know is that I hid “El derecho de vivir en paz” The right to live in peace of Victor Jara under my bed.

Apparently this is not over, because I looked out the window a while ago and saw some military trucks go by towards the town that is crossing the Pan-American Highway. And although gunshots and helicopters are heard, I think it’s better to go to sleep. There is nothing else I can do. What will tomorrow be like?