“DANTE – THE WITCHES SISTERHOOD” by Juan Ferrete

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Dante, I knew it was you! I knew you were the real Dante, that man I had heard about a while ago, in one of those conversations between friends that are kept secret. You were that man who traveled the world, offering massages to make a living. That afternoon you came to visit me. When I heard about you, I imagined a dark, stocky man with short, clean-shaven hair. How wrong I was, you didn’t look at all like the person I was expecting to meet. You were muscular but thin. High, although not in excess. Your hair reached up to your shoulders, and you didn’t look like you were Spanish. I can say that your eyes impressed me when you fixed on me the blue of your gaze.
I still don’t know how you got there. Coincidence? I don’t think so. I am one of those people who believe that everything happens for a reason. I remember that the day before your call, I was feeling lonely. I needed company and I made the madness of dialing the phone number where you announced your massages. I had never done anything like it, and I don’t regret anything. We meet at a cafeteria near my home. You expected my arrival patiently; then, due to my doubts between going or not going, deliberately, I arrived ten minutes late….

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