Ten minutes


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Submerged in the silence of the cold room, he has grown tired of scanning the horizon in the hope that she will appear walking through the night, that she will return after days in which pain has mimicked the seconds, taking her skin as a tenant.

It has been ten years together with ups and downs, full of joys and sorrows, a decade in which she became part of his life, mimicking his skin and being necessary.

His outbursts of heat were spoiling everything, like a cancer that was trampling his confidence and making life as a couple a living hell.

Until one night, intoxicated by alcohol, he slammed his fist against her humanity.

It was all over, although he regretted it when the effects of the alcohol dissipated, he woke up as a fugitive in the desert, alone and with the conviction that this solitude would not be momentary.

He had crossed the limits of coexistence and she, like an animal that feels threatened, grabbed the child and fled from who could be her victimizer

Tears have overcome his pride and managed to break the armor that hides his dignity and his fingers have dialed thousands of times the numbers that should communicate him with his cell phone, but the attempt has been in vain, he does not answer and he is about to put an end to everything.

To end his life slowly, as penance for all the mistakes he had made.

Of murdering his grief by means of the lethal liquid that is introduced through a needle into his vein.

His paramedic courses and his active life within rescue organizations served him well.

One of life's many paradoxes, helping others while falling to the precipice of abandonment and slowly nurturing an uncertain future in which catastrophe loomed.

There are only ten minutes left for her organism to collapse and enter an irreversible state of deterioration, if he fails to contact her or she does so in that time, all will have been consummated.

It will be enough time to write a few lines that will serve as a farewell, a confession of failure and an epitaph.

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