Gustavo Antuña

Montevideo, 1994. Although the dictatorship ended in 1985, the shadow of those years still weighs on the city. The police continue with practices inherited from the past: night raids, arbitrary arrests, abuse of power

It's nighttime. The city is quiet, but never completely at peace. They were returning from a rehearsal at Topo's, and as they walked through the center, the cold seeped into their bones. They were a few blocks from the bus stop when a police car stopped nearby

Gustavo sighs and lowers his voice
—These idiots again…

Two police officers get out of the car. They stare at them. One of them already has his hand on his baton. They approach slowly, as if they had done something. But you already know how this works... You don't have to do anything for them to take you away

One of the policemen frowns and points with his head
—You, the one with long hair… Documents.

Gustavo crosses his arms, but doesn't say anything

The policeman takes a step closer, looking directly at you
—And you? What are you doing with this guy at this hour?