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The stain of death
This nigh stain could be the longest night of my life, the previous already ge, and the other, but today I'm really afraid of the night. It seems it all started eight months ago,when I came to live in the neighborhood of San Jose in Barcelona. My name, Isidro de thirty-nine years of age and natural hospitals it took about three months to give me the light high, because tolive alone, them I had to make do for work and the tasks of the House. Housing was not very big, about thirty square meters; it was a loft, surrounded by the adjoining housing terrazzo. During the timeI was without light, I was able to experience certain anomalies worthy of naming; at certain times, just after eleven o'clock at night, a light clink of glasses of whiskey that rested on a tray closetogether is appreciated. This phenomenon was repeated three to four times a day, lasted just like to get my attention. What unbeliever of my attending saying; -"Time for the aperitif"-, serving me abrand new liquor. When at last I had light, I received with tremendous enthusiasm;
-"Welcome to modernity"-,
I said. Then I tried to imagine how the people who lived there would be. The last tenantdid not know very well because he moved. Some said that he had been out of work, others who had separated from her boyfriend;
-"so I knew, he was gay,"
And is only ge elsewhere. Other neighborspointed "and is the more logical", which stopped paying the rent, after a time, so they desahuciaron leaving him on the street and, why were there belongings and because that forced the front door isfiled.
My version is that there was something that who lived had to leave from there, because no version said the truth. What was the previous tenant?. Nobody told me anything. Only a neighboringpartner my friend Arturo, he told me that he lived an old lady who was goalkeeper and who lived alone- but... what was it?
-I asked him-nothing.
He simply died. Right on the floor of the room,...