I will never forget that night, the night that extended itself through four suns. I remember how the adrenaline crumbled my teeth, how my eyes were looking for the dark spot behind the sky. A macabre laughter could be heard from beneath the floor, children in hilarious and multiple eyes covered the holes in the walls. Disgusting pigs and cocks, infinite and imaginary thorns tored my thoughts. There were machetes behind my every move. I could see the sinister look of the woman scratching a pan with a fork. A horrifying concert of mistrust.
Published by Frida Robles
Frida Robles, born in Mexico City in 1985. She studied in History and Communications (BA) at the Iberoamericana University, and Social Design (MA) at the University of Applied Arts in Vienna. In her working practice as a creative researcher she focuses on the construction of the self; analyzing personal memories and stories. Lately she was part of an artistic urban research projects “Lubunga(mode)” in the Democratic Republic of Congo (Studios Kabako) and “Staging Apam” in Ghana (Haduwa Culture Center). She is currently working as a creative research consultant for Mexico City’s urban lab (Laboratorio para la Ciudad). Her creative essays have been published in various Mexican magazines such as Fractal and Iconica. View all posts by Frida Robles