Very late one night she said later she probably would think of this as a single night somewhat blurred, unreal, taking on the soft sofa - as if the light sifted already own body, lent him a consistency a bit vague, muffled, it was not what she wanted there, Night after night, blurred, somehow lend itself to a light dark and sweet, which made her face less discernible, was it not locked into a sort of cocoon where she felt protected, unrecognizable? After all, it would ultimately be recognized yet, but it would be someone else, a presence, gradually, immutable, on the sofa, a subdued presence, existing not outside, that can not be seen without the night, eyes misty spirit, after all no one could recognize them only through their own eyes softened, soaked in alcohol as in advance of oblivion and one would expect it to be there at night, in the presence rather than face, we first recognize its presence, sure, before associating it with his face, dive a little elsewhere . Was not this what she wanted there to be somewhere else, far-visibility otherwise.
And yet he still remained, as the night wore on, something like the fear of being recognized without doubt, -Unmasked-and that was the sensation of a spot burning his skin, mixed with the warmth of the alcohol spreading through his body, as if, as and when the contours around her faded that his own gaze was dissolving the stain gangrene more, slowly devouring her body, becoming larger and darker. Would come a time when it would, through her dress, visible, where she would escape - and it would be betrayed. She felt, even before the show, we could feel like something exude from his body, imbuing around her, the atmosphere, poisoning the sweet cocktails a barely perceptible taste, and yet tenacious, interfering little by little, she could not fight against this advance, against the feeling of the spot filling her mouth until the urge to vomit without power. She felt that what we would see first, it was not forcémen the stain itself, but something indefinable, attached to it, which would hit suddenly looks, they not then they would instinctively that there was no place, there was to it, nowhere place, it was on the sofa as elsewhere, inlaid , trying in vain to take root, to fade the sofa to be separated without doing so. What they would see is a sense of stain, the confused sensation of something moving, as inadequate - Alien-up to discern without doubt, in the recess of her dress, a form dark and hot, looking to expand further each time as if it was eaten, until you see it, this strange spot taking possession of his body, until you see his body, saying that the spot foreign everywhere.
