Aunque viva cien años

Oviedo, 1936. Of the entire family, only one child remains. The bombs have erased everything he knew in an instant: the warmth of a kitchen, his brother's or mother's voice, afternoons of football, that kiss. And yet, he cannot stay. Only by escaping will he have preserved his life and his memory. Is that truly saving himself? Even if he lives a hundred years, he raises from the ashes the world that war destroys, narrated by voices that still do not recognize its irretrievable nature, and confronts it dialectically with the shattered days that follow, where fate, in its tragedy, is left to the mercy of strange faces of indifference or compassion, among which perhaps there might be an old acquaintance. Two eras intertwine, each straining and suffering against the other, while Cesáreo struggles simultaneously to stay and to leave, to continue being.