The day wakes cloudy. I walk down this empty streets, seeing the grey sky that the storm precedes. Steps, lonely steps. Your heart beats louder than them. Your head burns. Breathless, life felt overwhelming, your world falls apart. You arrive, knock on the door, come in. It starts to rain. The storm begins. Thunder, lightning, screams, louder than you ever did. For the first time you feel peace. You breathe.
"Detrás de este triste espectáculo de palabras, tiembla indeciblemente la esperanza de que me leas, de que no haya muerto del todo en tu memoria." Julio Cortázar.