Hispaliterario 6. ¿Realmente estoy muerto?//Am I really dead?

Image.png

Cristóbal, se hallaba sentado en su mecedora, admiraba otro atardecer, le gustaba tanto ver los diferentes matices que aparecían en hora de la tarde, escuchar a las aves, que se iban retirando a sus nidos para descansar, el perro de la casa siempre se echaba junto a sus pies, estar allí lo era todo para él.

Durante la noche oía el croar de las ranas, el ruido de los grillos y veía a los múltiples insectos que revolotean alrededor de la luz de la farola que está justo en la entrada, a esas horas la brisa era fresca, entretanto la oscuridad se hacía más densa y poco a poco el silencio invadía todo el ambiente, a veces podía ser espelúznate, si no se está acostumbrando a él.

Al amanecer, el sol aparecía rodeado de diferentes colores, algunas veces naranjas y amarillos, y otras los tonos eran rosados, mientras tanto Cristóbal continuaba sentado en su mecedora en el porche de su casa, contemplando el espectáculo de colores, cada vez se sentía más extasiado ante la presencia del astro rey.

A primera hora de la mañana, su mujer acudía a observar a su esposo, quien lleva tres meses sentado en aquella vieja mecedora, con la misma ropa y cuyo aspecto empezaba a preocuparle. Ese día en particular, miro a su hijo y le dijo "estoy angustiada por el estado en que se encuentra tu papá, ¿qué vamos a hacer con él?, ¿cuándo habrá de entender?". El hijo se ofreció a buscar al párroco del pueblo para que les aconseje que deben hacer. El chico sale a toda prisa, no desea ver más a su padre así, el perro se levanta y vas detrás de él.

A medida que va avanzando el día, la temperatura se va elevando, las moscas empiezan a revolotear a su alrededor, al parecer la presencia de los insectos no le molesta, solo a su mujer quien está enfada por enjambre de bichos que asaltan a su casa y principalmente a Cristóbal. Ella comienza a maldecirlas mientras busca la manera de espantarla del lugar, aunque sabe que sus intentos son en vano, ya que tarde o temprano volverán debido al fuerte olor que va emanando del cuerpo de su esposo.

El chico regresa a su casa cabizbajo y triste, no ha conseguido traer al cura, le dijo que lo de su padre es un caso perdido, que solo hay que esperar por su decisión, nada se puede hacer, la madre abraza a su hijo e inmediatamente rompen en llanto.

La ola de calor se fue incrementando, por primera vez Cristóbal se sintió incómodo en su vieja mecedora, en ese instante, percibió como el aspecto su piel ha cambiado, entretanto una mosca grande de un color verde brillante se acerca hasta su rostro y se posa sobre su nariz, sintió tal repulsión por aquel insecto que quiso apartarla de inmediato, realizó su mayor esfuerzo por retirársela de encima, alzo lo más que pudo su brazo de un manotazo, se la quito de su cara al mismo tiempo que su nariz, en ese instante recordó como su mujer tres meses atrás le gritaba entre sollozo que había muerto.

@devania (4).png

El contenido de esta publicación es 100% original

La ilustración de la portada pertenece @roveana



English Version


Image.png

Cristobal was sitting in his rocking chair, admiring another sunset, he liked so much to see the different shades that appeared in the afternoon, listening to the birds, which were retiring to their nests to rest, the dog of the house always lay by his feet, being there was everything for him.

During the night he heard the croaking of frogs, the sound of crickets and saw the many insects fluttering around the light of the street lamp that is right at the entrance, at that time the breeze was cool, meanwhile the darkness became denser and gradually the silence invaded the whole environment, sometimes it could be creepy, if you are not used to it.

At dawn, the sun appeared surrounded by different colors, sometimes oranges and yellows, and other times the tones were pink, while Cristobal continued sitting in his rocking chair on the porch of his house, contemplating the spectacle of colors, each time he felt more and more ecstatic in the presence of the sun.

First thing in the morning, his wife came to observe her husband, who had been sitting in that old rocking chair for three months, wearing the same clothes, and whose appearance was beginning to worry her. On that particular day, she looked at her son and said, "I am worried about the state your father is in, what are we going to do with him, when will he understand? The son offered to fetch the village parish priest for advice on what to do. The boy leaves in a hurry, he doesn't want to see his father like that anymore, the dog gets up and you go after him.

As the day progresses, the temperature rises, flies begin to flutter around him, apparently the presence of insects does not bother him, only his wife who is angry about the swarm of bugs that assault their house and mainly Cristobal. She begins to curse them while looking for a way to scare them away, although she knows that her attempts are in vain, since sooner or later they will return due to the strong smell emanating from her husband's body.

The boy returns home crestfallen and sad, he has not been able to bring the priest, he told him that his father is a hopeless case, we just have to wait for his decision, nothing can be done, the mother hugs her son and immediately they burst into tears.

The heat wave was increasing, for the first time Cristobal felt uncomfortable in his old rocking chair, in that instant, he perceived how the aspect of his skin had changed, in the meantime a big fly of a bright green color approached his face and landed on his nose, He felt such a repulsion for that insect that he wanted to push it away immediately, he made his best effort to remove it from his face, he lifted his arm as much as he could with one swipe, he removed it from his face at the same time as his nose, at that moment he remembered how his wife three months ago screamed to him between sobs that she had died.

@devania (4).png

The content of this publication is 100% original

The cover illustration is from @roveana

https://www.deepl.com//translator

H2
H3
H4
3 columns
2 columns
1 column
10 Comments
Ecency