He had been all the day sitting in the desk, writting and doing his stuff with the PC on INTERNET. 8 hours.Slowly, the clock walked till the night. 3 days before it was his birthday, and he had told her daughter i don't want to live anymore. 3 more days and she goes to his place, then the phone call.
He was on the floor, almost naked but the shoes and an old T shirt. It was april.
Like i say, he was naked, with the glasses with him, in the left hand, the eyes wide open, and Mariela was crying like i had never seen her before.
He stood up and then the clut release itself and went to the lungs. He was just going to the bed, coughed up tiny blood spit, and walk 7, 8 meters to his place, his bureau, and gently lied down, great pain in the chest, waiting that radical moment of change, with shoes to walk and glasses to see, with curious eyes and peace.