Tal vez por eso no fue sorpresa para Palomo cuando pagaba un paquete de café y unos panes, y escuchó que dos agentes policiales se pusieron al lado y le pidieron que los acompañara. Dijeron algo de averiguaciones, de un complot contra el gobierno, de traidores a la patria. Palomo solo tuvo tiempo de ver el rostro de Aminta que sonreía igual que el presidente, con una sonrisa amenazante y macabra, con unos ojos que le decían que lo veían todo, omniscientes, saltones, ojos de sapo.

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![Versión en Inglés]
The threatening smile
For the past month, the government has begun to paper the walls of the city with the face of the president: a chubby man, with bulging eyes like a toad, who laughs with a macabre smile, in a direct and imposing way to those who look at him. The images, more than gaining affection, cause apprehension, uneasiness, fright, and that is perhaps what the creators of those posters and those of the government are looking for: to put fear.

Palomo knows it, that's why every time he sees one of those billboards on the highway, while driving his car, he turns his face away because he feels that those eyes intimidate him, they chase him and he no longer makes the quiet trip home. But on TV, Palomo must also come across those constant images, which every 10 minutes, by presidential mandate, appear with a loud, robotic voice-over, promising stability and prosperity to the people.

That is why, when Palomo found the poster in Aminta's bodega, he turned his face away, trying to make his face expressionless. But the woman sensed something because she immediately told him:

_Es orden del gobierno, vecino. Everywhere there must be the president's photo,” she said and scrutinized the man's face with real attention. Palomo, who was taken by surprise, only made a sound that expressed agreement or knowledge:
He paid and left the bodega, trying not to see the president's eyes that always followed him and were able to rummage through Palomo's thoughts and know that the poster he had been given at work, which he was supposed to put in the living room of his house, was still rolled up in plastic.

And so it was that going to Aminta's bodega, which was the only one left near his house, became an ordeal: it was no longer just seeing the president's eyes, which he could evade whenever he wanted, now it was also Aminta's eyes that were searching, examining, inquiring like a trained bloodhound.

Perhaps that is why it was no surprise to Palomo when he was paying for a packet of coffee and some bread, and heard two police officers stand next to him and ask him to accompany them. They said something about investigations, about a plot against the government, about traitors to the homeland. Palomo only had time to see the face of Aminta who smiled just like the president, with a menacing and macabre smile, with eyes that told him they saw everything, omniscient, bulging, eyes of a toad.