Twilight's Flash Fiction / Relatos cortos crepusculares

 Return home He loved her so much and missed her so much that from the day she died, every night he wrapped himself up very well and lay down next to her grave. There he told her what had happened to him during the day. She was listening to his stories and suffered because she could not help him even with those phrases that caressed his soul of little boy. She tired of suffering, the last night she waited impatiently for him to arrive, she left her grave and they returned home happily. Regreso al hogar La quería tanto y la echaba tanto de menos que desde el día en que ella murió, cada noche se abrigaba muy bien y se acostaba al lado de su tumba. Allí le contaba lo que le había sucedido durante el día. Ella escuchaba sus relatos y sufría por no poder ayudarle ni siquiera con aquellas frases que acariciaban su alma de niño. Cansada de sufrir, aquella noche esperó con impaciencia a que él llegara, salió de su tumba y regresaron felices al hogar.

 Coven The witches meticulously prepared their coven. The male goat observed in the distance the incessant coming and going of the young novices women who, nervous, obediently obeyed the orders of the veteran ones. That night was going to be memorable. Thought the male goat. Suddenly, someone surprised him from behind and grabbed him by the horns. “I have told you thousands of times not to see those movies. You must dedicate yourself to your goats and don't think about other things ”. The farmer said. Aquelarre Las brujas preparaban minuciosamente su aquelarre. El macho cabrío observaba en la distancia el incesante ir y venir de las novicias que, nerviosas, acataban dócilmente las órdenes de las veteranas. Aquella noche iba a ser memorable. Pensó el macho cabrío. De repente, alguien lo sorprendió por detrás y lo agarró por los cuernos. -Te he dicho miles de veces que no veas esas películas. Tú dedícate a tus cabras y no pienses en otras cosas. Le dijo el granj...

  Nobody His name was Nobody. The name was chosen by his father because he wanted his son to never fall into the trap of pride, importance and self-promotion. Nobody grew up alone and learned to think alone. His ideas were not contaminated by anything or anyone, and his thought flourished from the white of the void until it came to compose the most beautiful spaces. Worlds like red roses, universes that flew on butterfly wings. And he died without knowing what a kiss tastes like, without knowing caresses and oblivious to the love of someone who filled their perfect worlds.   Nadie Se llamaba Nadie. El nombre lo eligió su padre porque quería que su hijo nunca cayera en la trampa de la soberbia, de la   importancia y del autobombo. Nadie creció solo y aprendió a pensar en soledad. Sus ideas no estaban contaminadas por nada ni por nadie, y su pensamiento florecíó desde el blanco del vacío hasta llegar a componer los más bellos espacios. Mundos como rosas rojas, unive...

 Ann Ann travelled to Spain on holiday after spending part of her childhood in Madrid. Ever since her father, a distinguished diplomat, had been posted to Spain, the Middle Ages had become her greatest passion. His stories had fired the little girl's imagination, and she had never forgotten those visits to silent, imposing castles that seemed to guard unspeakable secrets. After landing, she went straight to her hotel. That very afternoon she had arranged to visit the Romanesque Castle of Loarre, in the province of Huesca. She took the photographs from her bag and studied them once again. In the most important one, an enigmatic suit of armour stood at the entrance to a magnificent hall. She had examined that photograph countless times because one almost imperceptible detail had caught her attention. Behind the narrow slits of the helmet, something seemed to glow. Could they be eyes? She had travelled all that way for one reason alone: to see the armour up close, although she was con...