That Night

Abducted

I do not remember exactly how I got to that place, everything happened strangely, as if a barrier extended time at certain times. It could be like that, I read a bit of those theories about gravitational waves that modify the lines of space time, the point is that that night, it was a vortex in your totality. I decided to venture, on my own in a new city, the autumnal cold and the orange skies evoked a somewhat apocalyptic image in the sky (which is fascinating to me), the red and orange of the sky reflected in the sea, sparkling like embers floating adrift; flammable, inextinguishable, like the life in the streets of this city, like the fury that tears its name in the skin of those who inhabit it, that fury that moves them, that resounds in thousands with each step of its inhabitants on its cobbled streets, the iron fury that moves its people on rails, like arteries of a great living mass, expansive, inexhaustible, beautiful and suffocating to the time. From time to time I like to isolate myself from the city; be in it, but somehow remain hidden. Imperceptible to his thousands of eyes, blind, but still, observe. Between the streets, generally to the shadows, there are holes devoid of any subtlety in their facades, not at all striking, but distinct in every sense of their interior, just what we like, a terror for those who call us "eccentric", but a place where the rules of the game are completely different to the external world. Here the names, do not interest. Just upon entering you must abandon your face, your identity in front of a mirror, everything that will remain of you will be your clothes and a mask; for outside we use immutable faces, which generally hide our inner world.