you expect the noise from the door closes behind him. But he is stopped on the landing, his hands tremble a little support to handle, unable to open it. She would beg him to stay, not go away. Remains silent while he searches for the strength to go out quietly into the night and quiet of those days of almost spring. The time seems to slow down, expand and dissolve, then he opens the door, she stops to breathe, someone shouts in the street, she turns around in bed waiting for a tire that will not sleep.
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