Thread:
Https://steemit.com/love/@gauch0/on-edge-cap-2
I could not stop crying. I did not want to tell anyone. Neither my husband Luciano, nor much less Felipe. I looked in the mirror and washed my face. I felt gray.
I went to my village, where everything was familiar, close, but dark. In that world things were always difficult but I knew how to handle myself. I never lost my savagery. My animal way of moving in that jungle so different from the city.
I asked the store lady and she told me about a woman who practiced them. I almost asked him to come with me. Yes, she, a strange acquaintance, wanted me to be my older sister, my mother, my friend, the one who would give me my hand when the bleeding, the pain, the tear began, but I did not do it. He only gave me a piece of paper with the name and color of the door I was supposed to touch. It was red.
"You have to strike three times," he told me. "Two in a row and then a few seconds, you make the third. She will understand you. " I put the slip of paper in my pants pocket and left.
I walked for a few hours through the village. Philip did not even know that I had escaped entirely to our shelter alone. But I needed to do it here, away from Luciano, from my children. From Ingrid. I needed it to be in the place where the love we had with Felipe fed every weekend.
I reached the red door. I stood there motionless. Without knowing what to do. I knocked twice and waited. I looked up at the sky and closed my eyes. I shook my head and turned around. I started to walk away from there. But the door swung open and the woman came out. "Come in," he argued almost without thinking. Despite missing that third blow, that common code, in spite of everything she knew why I was there.
Then I passed.
