At seven o’clock in the evening, when it introduced the key in the door lock, Ovid understood that something weird was going to happen to him. It contained breathing and turned his hand to the left as the waiter in the Hotel of Granada had taught him four days earlier when newly arrived to the city. He gently pushed the door, took a step forward and noted concerned and shocked the spectacle that was displayed before your eyes: the room was was almost empty. The bed of a single body, the bar fridge, TV, Dresser and Chair had disappeared along with his luggage, books and newspapers. On the wall next to the bathroom they had set a box which was a man of long beards crucified with his head down, full of blood and with a horrible gesture that betrayed the horrific pains suffered during his martyrdom. Looked everywhere but could not find any trace of furniture or personal items. He wanted to enter, to review with the hope of finding, bathroom to the less, shaving machine that give away you his son Pliny and his toothbrush, but a sense of fear invaded him suddenly and decided to leave it more that could quickly towards a safer place. When he was about to leave he threw a last look at the box.

His measures were two meters high by one twenty wide. The painter had used strong colors but, above all, the red and orange. The man in the picture was wrapped in a sheet and attached to two thick timbers cross by three overly large nails. Blood ran him from the feet to the head and had splashed the slats, the robe, beard and hair of the victim. Something in particular struck him and then his anguish was higher; He closed the door in a hurry and made an effort to convince themselves that it was not really what he had seen at the last moment: the drops of blood not only punctuated the bloodless face of the crucified; they not only staining his white raiment, not only is it colaba by his beard and his hair, but that he sprinkled the floor of the room.