Crying hysterically,
How could she forgive him?
They were coming,
The man, the spies
I couldn’t protect her!
Incoherent anguish
As there were no more mattresses, my cellmate invited the newcomer to share hers,
Which was scarcely wide enough for one person
I assumed the crying woman had been in a traumatic traffic accident, like me, In the morning of offered her my bread and water
(the jail doesn’t provide food. If you have no one to bring you food, I guess you starve)
La próxima noche metieron otra mujer, llorando histéricamente, hablando de que no podía perdonarlo, porque, porque, angustia incoherente. Como no había otro colchon, mi compañera la invitó a compartir el suyo, ya casi demasiado pequeña para una persona. Asumí que a ella le habia pasado un accidente de tránsito traumatico igual que yo. Por la mañana le ofrecí de mi pan y agua.
(image by CHUCK)
Days later I read in the newspaper that this inconsolable woman was in jail because she had
Thrown her baby in the latrine
It drowned
She was psychotic, post-partum I thought.
How could she ever get over this?
An innocent death
How can any of us be certain we will never be struck by
a craziness,
A loss of sensibility,
A few seconds out of our control?
Días despues leí en el periódico que ella estuvo preso por botar a su bebe en la letrina, que le había pegado una locura post parto.
Como asimilar algo así? La mujer inconsolable, un muerto inocente.
Como puede estar seguro uno que una locura, una perdida de sentido, algunos segundos fuera de control nunca te van a golpear?
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