La trilogía del agua arma de luto

Abstract

He seemed to be broken, trying to match those scattered pieces in his clouded mind. His evanescent appearance was confused with the waxy white of the wall and his white clothes and stained with blood. At some point he was disconnected from the world, uniting that useless puzzle that Alberto finished scrubbing with his voice heavy and full of rancor - Do not you understand? - Alberto said while removing his black hat and wet - all this time has You were pretending to believe no more than your own lie. He took off his coat and dumped it on the floor where his hat was, he was also surprised at what he had just discovered. The eyes of the other, bloody and tearful, stared at his imposing but weak, slow presence, that shocked and pitiful look transformed into pure hate, into doubt, into fear, into all those things together and uprooted in one. Vomiting violent act against itself. He began to laugh at his jaw, boasting of his useless victory, laughing for fear of knowing that what Alberto was saying was, in a way, true. How to know? They were locked up, maybe in a loop. It was the whim of some of his demons playing to be a god