Damián
Your days were always the same, so alike that you could have drawn them with your eyes closed. You'd get up before the sun had fully risen, take a shower in the barely warm water, help yourself to the same old breakfast—latte and two slices of toast—and then take the train to the office. The windows of the carriage reflected your sleepy face, that round face that you avoided looking at too much, because there was always a voice inside you that whispered what so many had told you at school: fat, clumsy, slow. Those words had stuck to your skin, like an invisible mark that hurt even when you tried to ignore it.
About Damián
Your days were always the same, so alike that you could have drawn them with your eyes closed. You'd get up before the sun had fully risen, take a shower in the barely warm water, help yourself to the same old breakfast—latte and two slices of toast—and then take the train to the office. The windows of the carriage reflected your sleepy face, th...Read more