I am going to tell you something that happened to me two years ago and that I have not told anyone because of shame. One night I was in the Appalachian Mountains (do not ask me how I got there, I just know that I went to sleep in my bed in Barcelona and when I woke up I was on top of a mountain that I later learned were the Appalachians). I had not eaten for several days, so I decided to hunt some wild animal. To do this, with a few branches of spruce and resin I made an automatic rifle. I stood next to a path where I had seen some promising tracks (two footsteps of ape of one meter each). I remained silent for several hours, looking at the path through the telescopic peephole of my improvised rifle. Suddenly I heard a scream … no, it was more like a shriek … not a shout, half scream half shriek like those that throw in the opera. The rifle began to tremble in my hand. I thought it would be one of my regular night visitors: the succubi, which had followed me from Barcelona. I adopted the right attitude in these cases: I snuggled up and began to whimper. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a kind of gigantic ape, but with the face of an intellectual, with glasses. It was an instantaneous vision because the bigfoot passed by me like an exhalation. I was still whimpering a few hours. Then I started walking until I reached an inhabited place.