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By Juan Carlos Rincón Escalante

(This story was originally published on the Apogee Literary Journal)

“And so….” He typed.


“So long.”

He paused, contemplating the screen. He read the whole thing.

“Farewell.” He pushed the blue publish button. His profile picture appeared next to the letter. He read it again. It was good. The warmth of satisfaction took over him. He put his phone in his pocket, wondering if it would break badly with the fall. That thought entertained him. As if the phone were the most important thing on the verge of breaking.

Or was it?

He chased that question away as he walked towards the edge. The sky was clean and lonely. The night made his nose drip. He regretted not wearing his scarf, but, then again, regret had always been useless.

He stopped when there was no more room to continue. The city lights blinked at him, indifferent to his pain. Their beauty, he thought, as all beauty tends to be, was numb.

A rush of thoughts flooded his mind, but they were all passers-by, none staying or changing anything. He was ready to surrender to the darkness.

But then, one thought stuck.

He laughed a little and backed away. He had to see how many likes his letter was going to get.

It was a really good letter.


JUAN CARLOS RINCÓN ESCALANTE is a Colombian lawyer, writer and filmmaker who lives in Bogotá. He works in an LGBT rights advocacy group, and is currently studying a master’s in Law where he is researching abortion rights in Colombia. His writings have appeared in Colombia in El EspectadorVice Colombia, and 070.

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