A dry laugh in an empty chamber. The crack that learns to smile.
By Germán Ferri — Soulware Publishing.
Comedy died centuries ago. He is the coroner assigned to the autopsy.
You do not enter to read a story. You enter to be dissected by it.
The Harlequin is already watching you. His function is not to make you laugh, but to violently dislodge his audience's expectations. Let the story root through your fears while you listen to the roar of your own silence.
He moves in spasmodic jerks, like a marionette worked by a drunken puppeteer. His jokes are terrifying axioms about existential emptiness.
When the Harlequin enters the room, sanity leaves by the window. Do not laugh with him — his laughter is contagious, and rarely stops before the air leaves you for good.
Will you be the witness — or the victim?
Anatomía del Vacío — You do not enter to read a story. You enter to be dissected by it.
By crossing into the Hollow, you accept that the stories held herein were not made to comfort you. You are a witness in the dark. There is no return. No assurance. And truth is a burden you shall bear alone.
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