Volvoreta

In this self‑referential tale, a weary author writes a letter to a distinguished critic, confessing his terror at presenting a work that claims to have no moral thesis. The narrative opens with witty reflections on the conventions of didactic literature, mocking the expectation that every story must teach a lesson. As the voice shifts, he introduces Martín, a carefree young man whose simple evening routine hints at a larger, quietly observed slice of Madrid life.

Through Martín’s mundane plans—sleeping early to greet a lover at a seaside resort—the novel sketches a world where everyday details become the stage for subtle irony. The prose balances scholarly satire with affectionate portraiture, inviting listeners to linger on the humor hidden in philosophical ramblings. By the end of the opening act, the story leaves us poised between the absurdity of grand‑theoretical pretensions and the charm of ordinary moments.