I come from Fuente el Sol, a village in what is now Spain’s emptying interior, in a region that saw better days in illo tempore. My first school, as you can see, looks today as run-down to some eyes as it is beloved to mine, for it was there I learned to read, write, and memorize the multiplication table, among other things that have proved more or less useful over the years. After all, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

I studied French Philology at the University of Valladolid and Spanish Philology at the University of Pau, only to end up, by a quirk of fate, in Oregon, which became my home for many years and where I learned English, so to speak.

I returned to old Europe a couple of times, always the wanderer — and the wonderer — until settling in beautiful Vienna in recent years, though it may not be the last stop, if the wind gives me wings and my hourglass doesn’t run out of time.

Others could describe me better than I can, for even though they don’t know me as deeply as I know myself, their voices are freer and thus more trustworthy. My friends see me in a good light, so much so that I’ve often wondered what’s gotten into their eyes, though I keep quiet and let them be mistaken. After all, that’s what friends are for.

In any case, if you’d like to know me, that is, to know what matters to me, what I think about certain issues, what keeps my mind busy beyond the business of making a living, it shouldn't be too hard, because it’s written in my micro-stories, which are part intimate reflection, part opinion piece, part irony and sometimes even sarcasm. A friend once told me that reading me is like listening to me speak.

I write to think out loud, to think together with you, and to offer you the chance to enjoy reading as much — or more — as I enjoy writing.

If I succeed, we’ll both come out ahead. Let’s hope so.