That day I was in the office, looking deep green stain was out on the roof. It was a long and winding stain, and I thought I saw in it the shape of a thin, bearded old man pointing his finger. I spent hours looking at that spot, intrigued with that bearded gentleman who kept pointing me. I tried to imagine what I looked like that, would you know maybe some secret about me and I knew?, "Accused me maybe there was something unforgivable done? I had no idea of \u200b\u200bthe cause, but the spot I was intrigued and repelled me at once.
Trying out of my head that image, I looked, I turned on my computer monitor and prepared to continue my work. I spent some time reviewing the accounts and making some efforts in this phone, it was a tedious job, but I did not care, as my fingers mechanical keys, the memory of my wife, as he had left to go away to work, asleep and naked bed, comforted me. It was the best picture of the day, my wife's beautiful body bathed by the morning sun. I continued working with that image floating in my mind, and calm and happy when my eyes were diverted for a moment toward the ceiling. The old wall gave me back a look grim. There he stood impassively watching and pointing with a grin on his face that seemed to mock me. A shiver ran down my back to see him again.
I got up and moved a plant site to block that vision, but it was even worse. Did not see the stain, but I knew the old man was there, waiting, watching me and pointing his bony finger. Again I bring to my mind the image of my wife and I tried to bend, the time when I was leaning against the doorway, watching while I drank coffee. That was a delicious moment, and remembering a few seconds I forget the irrational fear I was feeling because of that spot. Hot coffee in my hands, the silence of the morning, my bed, and sleeping in it all I wanted in this world, that was stronger than any fear stupid.
The strange thread that links the thoughts took me a while before I take that coffee, when I was preparing, and then jumped a few minutes later, when I left home, and suddenly I was struck by the question if I turned off the kitchen fire after making the coffee. I've always been very cranky with these things, and I never forgot it after using the kitchen, nor never left home without being cast before the lock, but at that moment I could not remember closing the spigot. I decided to call home and tell my wife for revision. I dialed my house and waited, but nobody answered. Nervous, I got up from his chair and walked around the room with the phone to your ear. I felt helpless and was afraid that something had happened by my fault, I'd never forgive. While awaiting a response from the other side of the line, I glanced furtively fled to the roof. The old man was still there. Expression seemed more cruel than before and more sinister smile. His finger was firm with me. He was laughing at me, mocking my distress. He seemed to know the doubts that mortified me and rejoiced. A fourth call and still no one answered. The fear had become a certainty, I was sure something bad, horrible, had happened in my house, and the old man emerged from the stain was there to remind me and enjoy my suffering. In a fit of anger, I stood on a chair and scratched the spot with my fingers. I pulled two fingernails and left my fingertips were raw, but I managed to start the stain on the wall. Tired I fell on the floor and began to mourn
Minutes later the phone rang. It was the voice of my wife.
Héctor Gomis
