La noche líquida

The liquid night proposes swimming between two waters, in the middle of the abyss, in that instant where memory merges with facts, when expectations weigh more than reason and our sharp edges redraw the boundary of reality. Faceless beings in the blackness of a swamp, jazz at Hitler's birthday party, soaked men and children made of scraps, glassy eyes that pierce entrails, fingers holding cigarettes by the pool, women screaming from the depths. And someone running in the darkness. These characters nestle their fear in the aquatic, in that which flows, and feel life slipping through their fingers, like when we try to drink with our hands: the water will end up running into a puddle that soaks everything. And here, beneath the surface, a shadow already looms.