The end of a party is a moment of suspension — the echo of laughter in the air, the forgotten streamers on the

floor, the sweet and sour smell of the celebration that has passed.

It is in the moment when the body feels the lack of presence and the deceleration of time (which for hours

seemed elastic) and which begins to run again with cruel precision, that the tears betray us. This cry, which arises after the end, it is not just a sign of sadness... is above all a gesture of recognition: one criesfor what was lived and one cries for what will no longer be repeated.

The body tries to regain control — the effort to stop crying is an attempt to reorganize the internal chaos, to

normalize breathing, to return to a previous place of greater vitality, beyond the unberable commotion.

Tears are washed away with more water and soap.

The dishes lie scattered, overturned... The objects that once participated in the celebration are now an altar of

oblivion. The spiders, patient spiders, mothers, daughters spiders... and the worms, cover the porcelain in a slow

dance of rearrangement.

This end of the party, is the silent choreography of those who learn to live with the sudden absence, the loss, and the signs of a universe now diluted beyond the possibilities of memory.