The Invisible Death Tragedy of a Male on the Wall, by Josep Maria Fonalleras

Some time ago, a friend commented on the details of a vivaciousness that preceded the death of a man who, near his house, stabbed in an automatic dock. She is interested in her life and she is the one who is able to be in the calf (or guarded in the right quarters, expuesto a todo) era la absolute indifference with what the treaty does to the world which entraba in the cajero. “No te ven”, decía. “No te miran a los ojos”. He thought about it in the wake of the episode of René Robert, the photographer he found dead in Paris, beaten, after hearing hours of the race. A friend of mine declared: “This tragic final informs us of absolutely horrible information about our behavior and about our solidarity with the neighbor”. This man is permanently buried in the sole during the sufficient time for the body to lose the minimum temperature compatible with life. Nadie is fijo. Nadie thought that on the slide night a mira sola, un gesto, le habría salvado. Hemos sabido de tragedia (“assesinado por la indiferencia & rdquor;) porque era un persona conocido. How many words, like him, are anonymous, that no miracle marks a moment of pause, an instant of misery, a happy ally?

Reference-www.elperiodico.com

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