Twilight's Flash Fiction / Relatos cortos crepusculares

Se reunió con su jefe en una cafetería. Le entregó una carta que sacó del bolso y se marchó. Su jefe leyó la carta y se dirigió al baño. Al día siguiente, la policía se presentó para llevarla a comisaría y someterla a interrogación. A su jefe lo habían encontrado muerto en la cafetería, y en sus manos tenía una carta en la que se leía: ‘Estamos muy cerca del final: 3X4 ≠12.’ Y claramente se distinguía en la firma el nombre de Lorena. San Frutos, el inspector de policía le hizo la siguiente pregunta: -¿Es suya esta firma? Ella contestó afirmativamente. -¿Me puede decir qué significa que tres por cuatro sea distinto de doce? -Ernesto  me envió una carta hace dos semana. En la carta, acompañada por un plano, me decía que iba a dejar a su esposa para casarse conmigo, y que en tres días (3), en el hotel marcado con una X sobre el plano, nos veríamos en la habitación número 4. Yo tenía que facilitar un nombre falso (≠) en el hotel y debía estar allí a las 12 del mediodí...

Omran no dice nada. Su frágil figura y su mirada ausente lo dicen todo. En su mente se agolpan los recuerdos de los últimos días y del momento en el que fue rescatado. Piensa que la vida es así porque no ha conocido otra cosa, pero la experiencia de la última noche, en la que el sonido sibilante de las bombas, la desesperación de la familia por ponerse a salvo y los gritos de sus padres y hermanos, le hicieron sentir mucho miedo. Desamparo. Está esperando en la ambulancia, pero no sabe qué ni a quién espera. Piensa en sus amigos con los que juega en la calle cuando no hay peligro, en los juguetes hechos de trozos de metal y madera con los que llenan de imaginación cada día. Alguien le pregunta cómo está, pero es incapaz de articular ningún sonido. Vuelven los recuerdos de esa noche y la angustia se apodera de él, aunque no exterioriza nada. Recuerda la calle, en la que solo quedan en pie algunos edificios, donde juegan a ser otros, a crear un mundo fantástico en el que la realidad ...

Omran Omran says nothing. His frail figure and his absent look says it all. His mind is consumed with memories of the last days and the time when he was rescued. He thinks life is so because it has known nothing, but the experience of last night, where the sibilant sound of bombs, despair of the family to safety and the cries of his parents and siblings, made him feel very afraid. Abandonment. He's waiting in the ambulance, but does not know what or who to expect. Think of his friends with playing in the street when there is no danger, in toys made of metal and wood pieces that fill the imagination every day. Someone asks how he is, but is unable to articulate any sound. Back memories of that night and distress seizes him, but does not announce anything. Remember the street, in which only a few buildings left standing where they pretend to be others, to create a fantastic world where reality does not exist. They carried his sister with him, but still locked in their thoughts,...

Tomorrow they are going to execute me at dawn. I could not convince the jury I am innocent. I had companions who pushed me to live outside the law, but I am innocent of what they accuse me. Actually I have been forced to fight against my own colleagues, thinking about the common good. Tomorrow I will be subjected to a lethal process and become nothing. Before this tragedy began, I had a quiet life and   worked diligently. I received orders to do   specific jobs and, together with my coworkers, we had all the machinery working properly. One day, without warning, I began to receive conflicting orders, and my colleagues began to work haphazardly. Fortunately, I had an elaborate list of orders, in the proper sequence, and I continued to apply them to my work, ignoring orders received. Everything around me was changing for the worse, my work was impeccable, there were serious disturbances that eventually damaged the machinery, making its operation ineffective. Decisions mad...

Feelings He left the factory feeling happy. It was a splendid day, bathed in bright sunshine, and people smiled as he passed. When he arrived home, he felt that something was missing. It was a feeling that returned almost every day. Determined to discover what was wrong, he went out into the world. He mingled with people, imitated their customs, and ventured into the intricate recesses of the human soul. At last, he discovered what he lacked: humanity's most precious gift—feelings. He longed to experience them. Armed with an unshakable will, he studied every theory and absorbed every nuance from those who spoke with wisdom, but to no avail. No one had ever told him that he belonged to the last generation of humanoids. Sentimientos Salió de la fábrica muy feliz. Era un día espléndido, de brillante sol, y la gente sonreía a su paso. Llegó a casa con la sensación de que le faltaba algo. Era un sentimiento que experimentaba casi todos los días. Se propuso averiguar qué era lo que...

Salió de la fábrica muy contento. Era un día espléndido, con un sol radiante, y la gente le sonreía al pasar. Llegó a su casa con la sensación de que le faltaba algo. Era una sensación que experimentaba casi todos los días. Se propuso saber qué le ocurría y salió a la calle, se mezcló con la gente, imitó sus costumbres, se deslizó entre los intrincados recovecos del alma y finalmente supo que le faltaba lo más querido entre los seres humanos: los sentimientos. Ansió experimentarlos y armado de una inquebrantable voluntad  estudió todas las teorías, interiorizó todos los matices de los que hablaban los sabios pero no consiguió nada. Nadie le había dicho que era un humanoide de última generación.

Africa Africa. Infinite. Elusive. The beginning and the end of everything. Guilt, abandonment, whenever I am forced to leave. My home is already in other lands, on another continent; my soul remains here, tears in two every time, I have to say goodbye, defeated. Far, foreign cultures, car noise, daily effort to survive, intricate paths that move to build today and secure  tomorrow . Africa are my parents, my family, red sunsets, starry nights hanging. It is the perpetuation of life, the eternal return to origins. As a child, during an evening walk with my father, I asked if I could live my whole life there, where I was born.  Where I received so much love every day.  My father made a gesture of doubt said, “God will it so." My children were not born in Africa, have not lived Africa; they are a weak link between tradition and the new, the unknown, our new home. I was unable to give them this one vital necessity, the experiences I was fortunate enough to have as a c...

África, infinita, inasible, principio y fin de todo. Sentimiento de culpa, de abandono, cada vez que me veo obligado a partir. Mi hogar ya está en otras tierras, en otro continente; mi alma permanece aquí, y se desgarra cada vez que, derrotado, tengo que decir adiós. Lejos, culturas ajenas, ruido de coches,  afán diario por sobrevivir, intrincados caminos por los que transitar para construir el hoy y asegurar el mañana. África son, mis padres, mi familia, los atardeceres rojos, las noches colgadas de estrellas. Es la perpetuación de la vida,  el eterno retorno a los orígenes. Cuando era niño, durante un paseo nocturno con mi padre le pregunté si podría vivir toda mi vida allí, donde nací y donde recibía tanto amor cada día. Mi padre hizo un gesto de duda y me contestó ‘Dios quiera que así sea’. Mis hijos no han nacido en África, no han vivido África, son el frágil eslabón entre la tradición y lo nuevo, lo desconocido. Desvelos, preocupaciones, y una necesidad vital de ...

Living with Angie Some years ago, in the early 2190s, I bought a nearly human companion. I am a widower, and I thought the human qualities of this new generation of humanoids might fill my lonely days. I had always been interested in this kind of companion, so I tried to learn more about the origins of the industry and the processes behind their creation. They began as part of the robotics industry in the twenty-first century. Artificial intelligence and deep learning were incorporated during the second half of that century, followed by advances in nanomaterials, quantum computing, and increasingly sophisticated software. By 2180, artificial skin and the capacity to experience something resembling emotion had become the final breakthroughs needed to produce an almost human companion. When I went to buy Angie, an engineer showed me several models. I wanted a humanoid who resembled my late wife. To make that possible, I had to undergo a series of tests conducted by both a psychologist a...

The Train I am boarding a train. I am setting out on a journey to nowhere. This is a modern train, and it reaches breathtaking speeds, but you can hardly enjoy the scenery. While I try to put my suitcase in its place, memories come flooding back of when I was very small and my father took me to visit a big city. We travelled on an old, rickety steam train. Its hard wooden seats were terribly uncomfortable, and the locomotive left a trail of soot on the passengers' faces and clothes. But none of those discomforts mattered to a child like me. Almost everything was excitement and adventure. Sitting opposite me was a shy little girl, clutching her mother's hand and trying to hide behind her. It was fate. For more than sixty years, she made my life a paradise. Three months ago she died and left me in complete darkness. El tren Estoy subiendo a un tren. Pretendo hacer un viaje a ninguna parte. Este es un tren moderno de los que alcanzan velocidades de vértigo y no te permiten disf...