The world began to move as if it were one of those crystal balls that when you shake it simulates a snowfall over the city it encloses. The streets that seemed straight and flat turned up and down like the deck of a ship on a night with heavy seas.
The cold drops of a shower are not enough to wash down the fatigue accumulated under a waterproof skin that does not allow to refresh the thoughts and clear the sleep accumulated under the eyelids from the face.
The mirror returns the worst version of sadness through reddened eyes from crying without tears. A look of pity travels each of the vestiges of fatigue trying to remember the antecedents that caused it.
The coffee grows cold and is forgotten on the table next to an aspirin tablet that is missing a dose. The television on without a voice and the blinds drawn.
The sun hurts, the air hurts, life hurts.
‘As my soul leaves its apartment, I get migrains,
heart strains, tear stains, and fear gains,
with increases in the pain, I get a headache.’