Por mi parte, quiero contarles algo que me ocurrió hace algunos años. Estaba con vida aún mi esposo, que en paz descanse, y mi hijo Luis Felipe (@luisfe) tendría alrededor de 3 años. Acostumbramos mi esposo y yo siempre a dormir con las manos entrelazadas, pero hubo una época en que el niño se despertaba de madrugada, se pasaba a nuestro cuarto, se subía a la cama, sacaba la mano de su papá de la mía y colocaba la suya. Como soy de sueño profundo no notaba yo nada de esto, pero cuando me despertaba a mí vez para ir a orinar, si sentía en la mía una mano grande sabía que era la de Orlando, en tanto que si sentía una pequeñita pensaba "Ah, caramba, ya Luis Felipe se pasó para acá otra vez". La diferencia de tamaño era notoria ya que yo mido 1.42 m. y mi esposo media 1.80 m. Era de manos grandes.
For my part, I want to tell you about something that happened to me a few years ago. My husband was still alive, may he rest in peace, and my son Luis Felipe (@luisfe) was about 3 years old. My husband and I are used to always sleeping with our hands intertwined, but there was a time when the boy woke up at dawn, went to our room, climbed on the bed, took his father's hand out of mine and placed the hers. Since I'm a deep sleeper I didn't notice any of this, but when I woke up myself to go urinate, if I felt a big hand in mine I knew it was Orlando's, while if I felt a small one I thought "Ah, gosh, Luis Felipe has already passed over here again". The difference in size was noticeable since I am 1.42 m tall. and my husband is 1.80 m. He had big hands.
Pues bien, una madrugada despierto y siento mis dedos entrelazados con los dedos de una mano mediana, muy grande para ser del niño, muy pequeña para ser de mi esposo.
Me asusté muchísimo y no me atrevía a abrir lo ojos a ver a quién pertenecía la mano. Por mi mente pasaron las conjeturas más descabelladas, llegué a pensar en un ladrón "pasado y abusador" que se hubiera metido no solo en nuestra casa sino ¡hasta en nuestra cama!, un muerto, fantasma o espanto, un extraterrestre...
I steeled myself with the little bit of courage I had left and opened my eyes suddenly to find that... the fingers of my right hand were intertwined with the fingers of MY left hand... I myself was the thief, fright, alien or whatever. I had a fit of laughter that woke my husband up. The three of us ended up laughing (because Luis Felipe also woke up with the racket we made) and the night of terror turned into a night of snacks since laughter kept us awake and we got up to eat milk with cookies (That was more than fifteen years, before the crisis and we could give ourselves what we now call "luxuries") and watch television until dawn.
Quizá muchas historias sobre fantasmas se deban a cosas normales que el miedo haya magnificado. Como pasó conmigo en esa "Noche de Terror"
Si luego de leer este relato te sientes motivad@ a participar en este alegre concurso convocado por @comedyopenmic te invito a leer sus bases haciendo clic acá
Perhaps many ghost stories are due to normal things that fear has magnified. How happened to me on that "Scary Night"
If after reading this story you feel motivated to participate in this cheerful contest organized by @comedyopenmic, I invite you to read its rules by clicking here
NOTA: Las ilustraciones son propias, dibujadas en el programa Paint
NOTE: The illustrations are my own, drawn in the Paint program