VOLVIÓ
UNA NOCHE.

She returned one night—I did not expect her; there was such anxiety in her face that I hadn't the heart to remind her of her treachery and her cruelty. Humbly, she said: "If you forgive me, the days of old will return once more. Springtime is our life; you'll see that everything will smile upon us."

"Lies, lies," I wanted to tell her; the hours that pass never return. And so, my love, once bound to yours, is now but a ghost of the distant past that can never be brought back to life. I stifled my bitterness and felt pity. Her blue eyes opened wide; they quickly grasped my profound sorrow, and with the grimace of a defeated woman, she said: "That's life." And I never saw her again.

She returned that night—I shall never forget it— with a gaze that was sad and devoid of light. And I was afraid of that specter who had been the madness of my youth. She left in silence, without a word of reproach; I sought a mirror and looked at myself. There were so many winters etched upon my brow that she, too, took pity on me.