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  Belisa Crepusculario saved her own live and also discovered by accident writing. On arriving to a small village near the coast, the wind blew a sheet of newspaper to her feet. She took that fragile yellow paper and spent a long time observing it without knowing its use, until her curiosity overcame her shyness. She approached a man who was washing a horse in the same puddle which she had used to quench her thirst. ‘What is this?’ she asked. ‘The sports page of the newspaper,’ the man replied without showing shock over her ignorance. His response left the girl astonished, but she didn’t want to seem rude and stopped herself from asking about the meaning of the little fly legs drawn all over the paper. ‘They are words, child. Here it says that Fulgencio Barba knocked out Nero Tiznao in the third round.’ From this day Belisa Crepusculario understood that words walk free without an owner and that anyone with a little skill could take control of them in order to do business. She...

  She had the name Belisa Crepusculario, but not by baptismal certificate and certainly not by her mother, but because she herself looked up names until she found one and used it for herself. Her job was to sell words. She travelled the country, from the highest and coldest of regions to the hottest of shores, setting herself up in fairs and in markets, where she constructed four poles with a linen tent, which would shelter her from the sun and the rain so she could tend to her clients. She didn’t need to announce her market stall, because so many would walk past here and there, everyone knew her.   There were those who would wait an entire year for her, and when she arrived at the small village with a bundle under her arm they would queue in front of her stall. Her prices were fair. For five centavos [1]  she recounted poems off by heart, for seven she improved the quality of dreams, for nine she wrote love letters, for twelve she thought up insults for irreconcilable en...