CUENTO BORGESIANO

In a large room with coffee stains on the ceiling, a man is lying on his back.

A door opens and a man enters. I do not know this man nor the reason why he comes running at me this fast. When I realise I should duck or at least defend myself, he is already on top of me. A fight in which he only hits me and in which I only get beaten up takes place. I don’t care though. I just wait. The man must be tired because he stops hitting me. I’m lying on my back, my chin is bruised, I’m bleeding out of my left eye (it’s actually my left eyelid that’s torn and that’s bleeding inside my eye) and in my ears I hear this high and monotonous noise (What caused that? Did he hit me in the ear as well?). Still lying on my back and noticing that the ceiling is stained by three big coffeelike forms. Artistic patterns if u want. Footsteps. Loud footsteps. “You need ice for that eye of yours? It doesn’t look nice, you know? I mean, look at yourself!” The man I just hit turns on his side and tries to get up using the chair he sat in moments before I hit him. As soon as he realises the reality of his headache I’ll tell him why I hit him. I’ll tell him why I’ll kill him as well. Just before putting him out of his misery I’ll whisper my name in his ear and he will know. His eyes will go all white, and then I’ll
“Why did you hit me like that, you bastard? And how did you get in?” No reaction. Must have hit him too hard or maybe in an unhealthy spot. I miss my girlfriend.

In a large room with coffee stains on the ceiling, a man is lying on his back. A tiny river of blood is coming out of his left ear. Bottles cover the floor. One is broken. A ray of light reveals the dust floating in the air.




(18december2005, hung over on tom waits)