One reflection of her many selves, trapped, she looks at the mirror contemplating what she has become, wondering what keeps her moving forward, without knowing who or where that human carriage is leading itself to. Tears fall from her eyes, maybe, and just for a few seconds, she has taken conscience of her real self, but, what or who is in fact it that real self? “Who I am?” She says. Another gin and an anxiolytic pushes that glimpse of her soul back into the mirror, trying once more to avoid any conversation between them…

Jorge Crespo.