No había vuelto a publicar por #Hive este tipo de texto con el que me identifico: el aforismo, muchas veces compartido por esta plataforma. Es una forma textual que puede confundirse con el microrrelato. Veremos cómo me va.
Volvió para no morir en el olvido, y el tiempo no lo reconoció.
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Nunca supo si había existido realmente; sólo escuchó el eco de una voz.
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Frente al espejo, su sombra se parecía a él.
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¿Qué querías?, le preguntó. Jamás tuvo una respuesta. A veces los rayos del sol iluminan la habitación.
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Miró al techo: no había nada, o solo su nada.
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Aquella noche cerró su diario de vida, y luego no recordó nada, ni pudo abrirlo.
Aphorisms of loss (I)
I had not published here again this type of text with which I identify myself: the aphorism, which I have shared many times. It is a textual form that can be confused with the micro-story. We will see how it goes.
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He returned so as not to die in oblivion, and time did not recognize him.
He never knew if he had really existed; he only heard the echo of a voice.
In front of the mirror, his shadow resembled him.
What did you want? he asked her. He never had an answer. Sometimes the sun's rays illuminate the room.
He looked at the ceiling: there was nothing, or only his nothingness.
That night he closed his diary, and then he did not remember anything, nor could he open it.
Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version)
@equipodelta
Este post es parte de mi entrada al reto #Hive14Challenge con 
