Lips are still wet, light in the eyes. Air comes and goes -soft flutter in each breath-, skin and flesh in place, belly and throat, feet ready to walk. All you know, all you have loved; sad and sweet memories, that now you evoke, fragile bonds, about to be undone. Disdain and piercing chill. Looking for a presence, where does absolute love lie? A few more steps, the sound of a heart, a still-beating heart. Cold breeze on the face, eyes become mirrors for the grey vastness. In just a moment, all will disappear. Trembling legs, no room for doubt or refusal; pride, the last to fall. A final glance before the dark. A flying bird, a sound, a world that will remain. A shiver follows the thought: a steel blade coming down, no more.
El jardín de las hipótesis inconclusas. Un espacio abierto a todas las ideas, por locas que sean, y a todos los planteamientos, por alejados que estén de los pareceres comunes.