Twilight's Flash Fiction / Relatos cortos crepusculares

The visit of infinity I woke up early, like every day, to go to work. When I tried to get up, something or someone was preventing me from getting up. I got scared and thought, "You're still sleeping, you've got to wake up. I saw the ceiling of the bedroom, and my sight began to run through the pictures of the walls, the window, and... wait a minute! Beside the window there was a closet. I looked in that direction, but beside the window there was nothing. Everything was black. Half the room had become a black space, and the door had disappeared into that space. So even if I could get up, I couldn't get out of the room, or so I thought, because at that moment I tried to get up and I succeeded. At the same time I observed that the black space was advancing, swallowing the room, until the remaining light was being reduced to a point. A strange point that did not stop shining. In the midst of the darkest darkness, the point of light came towards me, and I could hear ...

The Sad Smile The uninhabited house smelled of moisture. Walls were wallpapered. A huge skylight let through the light that spilled on the exotic plants brought from the most remote places, and that for a few days had been abandoned to their fate. Its owner had disappeared without a trace. In the luxurious living room, above the exquisite marble fireplace, an enormous and enigmatic portrait was on display. A slight smile and a sad look on a beautiful feminine face transmitted the uneasiness of the inescapable fatality of destiny. The mother of a saga of famous composers had been responsible for the suicide of the fiancée of her youngest son. Many years ago that, Now, the absolute owner of all, the youngest son of the family had disappeared. Those responsible for solving the case often returned to the house, for some days. Almost imperceptibly at first, over the days, very slowly, they realized how the feminine face of the enormous painting in the living room was transforme...

The carrier He rdoesn't remember very well when he began as a carrier. When he had barely learned to walk, he began carrying a small basket full of bricks to help his family build the hut, and his hands became accustomed to receiving and giving. Later, when he was a big boy, he would carry big jugs of water for long distances. Water, for his family, for the village neighbours who were already very old... When he was surprised by the war, he was a teenager, he also had to act as a porter. He carried messages from one side to the other, in the trenches. Messages from one brother to another. Desperate messages, messages of hope, messages of brotherly love... before dying ones in each other's hands. He became an educated young man. And he continued to act as a porter. He learned to live in the big city and to distinguish between those who gave and those who received, and he was the common thread between them. This time it was about affection. He also learned that there are peo...

The Monastery In the twilight, the monastery was showing its imposing silhouette to the walker who, exhausted, approached the entrance. With the heavy knocker he knocked on the door and waited. He waited. He knocked again. The hinges was squeaking and the door opened very slowly. A little man let his smallpox-like face be seen under the hood of his habit, and with a gesture invited him in. "I am Fray Ernesto, from the Abbey of Cadbury. The prior is waiting for me." "The prior died this morning. We are veiling over his body. Tomorrow he will be buried here." Bro Ernesto, out of his mind, replied to the friar: "It's not possible! He was having to give me some very important documents." "Come with me and you will see for yourself." They passed through the dark cloister, dimly lit by the torch carried by the friar. The room, a naked cell, housed the lifeless body of a young man. His closed right hand showed something me...