knew places like this. It was not his first experience, only this time the circumstances were different framing. Even less surprising as these behaviors of others, something striking, because in the end he had always walked the path of the other, almost with pleasure. It had discovered the informal, the extravagant, that attracts attention, but above all, he had met the real thing ... The place was one of the bunch, these shelters, almost traffic, or emergency, provided some surprises in store and who inhabited them had their stories. Some could tell, because the showing, others remain hidden and many more gave rise to the imagination, fantasy ...
He was a gentleman of indeterminate age, but surely exceed 45 or fifty years, lived in one of the many rooms of the place, something small, with no comforts, but with the minimum and necessary to go on living. He heard that he was out of work, which was looking for and was denied for some time. This finding appeared when a colleague asked him place a cigarette or something to eat, otherwise we will not talk to anyone. Every time someone passed her room he saw it the same way, sitting near the door slightly open legs, cigarette in one hand and the other the mate, which revealed the very purpose for which it was submitted and liempieza little to dispense. Greeted in a very nice, but nothing more. Each time he left his place, kept locked and is out for two minutes ...
was not established, like the rest, hours of rest or lunch or the dinner, or anything ... Even an hour of sleep, because in many circusntancias, I saw sleeping dress, mid-morning, afternoon or evening, not appropriated any particular time, but of all. Sometimes, coming out at night, carrying a bag in his right hand and on the other, a cigarette that gave the feel of it.
was not a culture of cleanliness, except in a couple of times, I saw sweeping the room and behind him, a room with signs of having been devastated by an earthquake. When cooked white noodles in a pot, decorated with the soot from the flame, leaving traces everywhere, he had walked out there. He did not notice the rest did not care ...
One afternoon he hurried, like so many, into the street as it arrives at the village, began its way to the city, walking alongside the tracks. He did a fast walking and never looked back, always carrying her purse in her right hand. I wondered why I had never approached him and knowing any detail of your life, that both my attention and only complained to me ...
The new autumn night was chilly, the place was quiet and all rested. When later rang the bell insistently of the street that nobody came to attend, perhaps because the cool holding them in his room until the insistence broke down and got up. I put the shorts he wore a morning to go to the bathroom, and headed for the door.
opened, there were two plicias who asked if the site is not hosted a man of 45 years or older, who went with a brown bag and dressed in brown overcoat. Before I could formulate an answer, they kept saying the same was thrown to the tracks of 23:23 and lost his life on the spot.
body still in the hospital morgue in the area, no one has recognized ...
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