Bloodied. It was absurd. Everything was absurd. Is it not true, Fermin?, I wanted to ask the seller of the press. I could not do so because it lay folded on the kiosk, composing a grotesque figure of which dripped blood abundantly. Heavens! He was dead! Completely dead! Entered me a total panic, that did not stop without occupying any glimmer of my body. I knew that he was running because a few minutes after I stopped panting, exhausted.
I had urinated on top. I think I have already said that I am a type that is not easily swayed. I think even able physically to any face. Or almost any. But at that moment I felt like a rag doll, unarticulated, without any power. I shut up at home.
Terrified. I tried to recap the events that saw distant, as in a movie that was starring on the other. I remembered that in my crazy race I came with several passersby. He contemplated even their faces full of astonishment. There were also shouts. Behind my back. Someone was screaming asking for relief. Other voices were saying: to the murderer! To the murderer! Escaping! Most horrible of all was that these voices were related to me. I was sitting on the edge of the bed and his hands were shaking. To look at them, I watched dumbfounded that my right hand had a drop of dried blood. How he had been able to manchar me it? I tried to remember if sometime I touched the body of the newsagent to check what had happened to him. I did not. Maybe had taken the knife, when I saw him on the ground the single hypothesis I espeluzno. Me, catching me, knife with the knife in my hands I, stabbing a Fermin No, no, no. Someone wanted to go crazy, but it wasn’t possible.