I've been home alone for four days now with no news from Ken since he deserted the apartment after beating me.

I am recovering little by little from the blows, the traces on my blow are starting to go away, I apply an ointment that I had bought when we went to the shopping center, which helps me a lot moreover, to attenuate the pain and stop the red marks on my skin.

I would like life to move on and for everything to be erased as it goes. And long hearses, without drums or music, parade slowly through my soul, vanquished hope cries, and atrocious, despotic anguish, on my...