Cops and Crooks and the Guilt

A coin has two faces: one shows the face of a crook and the other one of a cop; both are similar but different at the same time. In the slums it's like flipping a coin; people are forcefully assumed into certain positions. Teofilo, the protagonist of "Cops and Crooks" was made to become a crook. The Guilt is a novel written with the language of life. Internal poetry breaks out of the gaunt consciousness of the characters, educated beings in their precarious everyday life which is filled with the presence of death. Reiterations and dramatic spins give the story the enhancement of Hemofiction. It all occurs in a faraway place, very close to an emotional truthful reality.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

1 - They call me "Dumbass", but my name is Teofilo. I wanted to be tall and turned out to be short. I begged them not to bug me with my nickname, but people were cruel: -Dumbass, Dumbass. -And why not Teofilo? -Because you brought it on yourself. -And what if I change? -Yeah, right, let s see if that happens. -One day you ll be afraid. -Oh, no we re scared. -In the hands of cowards and brave, knives can kill. -Oh, We re so afraid.I would tremble with anger. Feel dizzy and want to throw myself off the roof. Climbed several times up with that purpose, to throw myself on the sidewalk, but always came back down with regrets for having to bear it all. -Dumbass, Dumbass. -Fuck off.2 - In other places I thought- there was less evil Imagined friendly relations between parents and sons, imagined the understanding between friends and neighbors. Cordial greetings, loans. There, perfidy came in abundance, more popular than movies teeth on the floor, guts, blood, because he gave someone a dirty look, because her husband arrived drunk, because he didn t have enough money for the torta or taco.Bitter people enjoy rancor, and there were very few happy ones left in the slums, few decent and honorable. It had mostly filled itself with people that ate hunger and revenge I say to myself that the neighborhoods used to smell differently, let s say, with more harmony, breathe peace has always been my goal, since they took away my breast. In one same room there would live the children of first and second marriages. The knife fights would be up to date. We d be in the newspapers. -Ma, they popped Don Chencho last night, they stuck an ice pick into his guts. -Awful, my son, yes, and all because they wanted to get a few bucks off him, which weren t that much. -I dislike blood, I would not kill anybody. -Of course not, out of one s own defense. -Not even for that. There are poor that kill, and say that they are defending themselves from the rich. -I think that they ll attack me, son, if they ever come to steal at night. -That maybe so, but then what good is jail for? -I don t think it s any good at all. -Isn t it said that, in there, the bad ones are corrected? -And what should they be corrected for? -For what they are, Ma, to regret for going the wrong way. -I say that they go nowhere, cause in reality nothing changes. We re all hungry and thirsty. Few of us go to school. Children learn how to be evil, let s say maybe they unlearn it if they went to live on Mars, but over here

About the Author

Juan Trigos is the creator of the aesthetic literary style of Hemofiction. Hemofiction is the literature of search which reflects on the bleeding of consciousness in multiple mirrors, where it contemplates with horror the thousand faces of personal infantilism. Hemofiction is seious but very fun literature.

Reviews

News