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| Nachtman - Johann Heinrich Fuseli |
At this time there is no noise because the whole city is asleep. Everyone, absolutely everyone. Birds, dogs, all the buildings guards, taxi drivers who roam the streets in a vigil fictional thieves already tired of search for victims, the prostitutes who rest under the weight of a drunk. All cats get less sleep.
These three kittens roam the neighborhood every night and I think they are brothers. They are parked outside the building when I turn off the light and I go to bed. I know what , but it is always uncomfortable and scary. The feeling goes up the legs and arms and when I try to interaction it is late and my body is an immovable rock, a prison that hurts and I try to break out screaming but there is hardly a gasp annoying. I feel the devil in the ankles, is a black shadow that gives me cold and I caressed her legs, belly, chest. Begins to whisper in his ear ghastly secrets and saliva moistens the tip of my left ear. The shadows on the roof take shape: there are two children in the yard playing and singing songs. We are Manuel and me and someone coming for us. N or stops l voice of the devil, and although I know what I have so much fear. I can not do anything for them, I can not yell at them to leave, someone comes, I can not move, stand up out of bed and take them to safety. Cold saliva of Satan coming through my ear, his voice horrible secret whispers, breathing increasingly difficult and hectic, all the strings of an orchestra going from the lowest note to the most acute until the demon explodes, the children disappear, I have the ears dry, air goes to the bottom of my lungs and move suddenly achievement.
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