REMORSE

WORDS

Knocked down by the fists of many unnamed youths, León is falling to pieces in a night forest crowded with echoes. Even so, he is still able to lean on his arm and raise slightly his head from that bleeding asphalt. And the moon?

The young men surround him, but they are faceless as well, because León can only see dense undergrowth and thorns and caves. By his side lies a wallet, open and hopeless, whose interior shelters the scream of fear. He leans on the palm of his hand trying to sit up, but another violent burst undermines him brutally. He doesn’t feel pain, as the noise is gatecrashing within his core and the roar prevents him from hearing the cry of his own body. A shoe has lost a high heel somewhere nearby, and its edge is the rock polished by the dark ravine. The owls observe him, the branches await, and León shifts again in search of support but, after a torturous effort, another jolt, and he barely has any strength left.

The din of howls keeps on growing and his soul is filling up with thousands of unknown mouths that spit in unison, swamping his heart. The path is invisible, his feet trip over stones and brambles scourge him. The night blows its darkest obscurity upon him, who has finally lost his way and is lost in the shoves of death. This impenetrable wood is swallowing him and only this wood full of yelling eyes remains in his thought while he receives a new murmur of irate feet crying out for vengeance. The sharp knocks, the threatening shouts, the immense trees, the springy grass, the clear water…

León is going to die and, in the scattering of his life, all his memories flee terrified from that black cesspit.

MOVIES

Oldboy, Park Chan-wook, South Korea, 2003.

What is a man doing with a raised mattock, the clothes muddied, the forehead wet with sweat and the teeth gritting? Either he is about to kill someone, or he is planting something.

Although, well considered, he could also be just posing for a photograph.

MORE


Stones, by Desártico.