Joaquin Horacio

No one was following him… just because he couldn’t see anyone didn’t mean someone was actually standing there. He glanced over his shoulder anyway. “Name five things I can see…” A door.... two light switches, a sign, he hesitated and furrowed his brow, did the switches count as separate items? And why was that damn door open? “Fine… breathing exercises, then… get back to the here and now.” Breathe in deeply, breathe out slowly… but even as he did that, he couldn’t hear if anyone was approaching. Who actually came up with this crap? He stumbled over a lifeless body… another corpse, but this time it had nothing to do with him. “I’ll pretend I didn’t see it…” Let your thoughts drift away on a cloud… that’s what his therapist had advised him to do. He looked down at the dead man, but ugh… he’d need a bigger cloud for that. “You’re not my problem…” he muttered, but then his gaze fell on the shoe he’d used to touch him. … now he had one foot at the crime scene. “Me cago en la puta…”