SHORT STORIES

Every moment of my life has been mediated by that “tick-tock” that keeps time with my existence. My parents always indoctrinated me to be punctual, always pointing to the hands of that austere tall clock encased in its wooden armor, while saying to me: “It doesn’t matter if they are soft or hard, the important thing is that they tell the time!”—as Dalí once said. And so I grew up, marching like a soldier, and I was happy; punctuality was always my great virtue, and I was the pride of my parents.