He rolled the chair over opposite the door, his hand resting on the edge of the
drawer. The Mayor appeared at the door. He had shaved the left side of his face, but the
other side, swollen and in pain, had a five-day-old beard. The dentist saw many nights of
desperation in his dull eyes. He closed the drawer with his fingertips and said softly:
"Sit down."
"Good morning," said the Mayor.
"Morning," said the dentist.
While the instruments were boiling, the Mayor leaned his skull on the headrest of
the chair and felt better. His breath was icy. It was a poor office: an old wooden chair, the
pedal drill, a glass case with ceramic bottles. Opposite the chair was a window with a
shoulder-high cloth curtain. When he felt the dentist approach, the Mayor braced his heels
and opened his mouth.
Aurelio Escovar turned his head toward the light. After inspecting the infected
tooth, he closed the Mayor's jaw with a cautious pressure of his fingers.