Twilight's Flash Fiction / Relatos cortos crepusculares

  Silk Her soul is silk. She wraps you in her sweetness and, without even knowing it, breaks the silence of loneliness. Such is the death of every day, giving way to a thousand dawns. Heartbreak. Dreams. Tiny diabolical thoughts. Great plans. Sorrows that fit inside a thimble. Joys as vast as the oceans. And, at the end of the day... a taste of life's eternal light, which wraps you once more in her silken soul, until the following day.   Seda Su alma es seda. Te envuelve en su dulzura y, sin saberlo, rompe el silencio de la soledad. Así muere cada día, para dar paso a mil amaneceres al día siguiente. Desamores. Sueños. Pequeños pensamientos diabólicos. Grandes planes. Penas que caben en un dedal. Alegrías inmensas como los océanos. Y, al final del día... un sabor a la eterna luz de la vida, que vuelve a envolverte en su alma de seda, hasta el siguiente día.

   Forgetfulness He was sentenced to life imprisonment and never knew how he got to that narrow cell. With no electric light, a small window near the ceiling let him know if it was day or night. To combat forgetfulness, he counted the days by making a small mark in his prayer book with each sunset. He had always hoped that he could escape, and his mind was on how to do it through that window. After many days and endless attempts, he managed to get to it and tried to break the glass. That was when he realized that it wasn't a window. It was a screen that simulated the passage of days. Surprised by that discovery, he repeatedly hit the screen hard, until it broke into a thousand pieces. Unexpectedly, a huge force pushed his body outwards and a sharp pain in his shoulders made him scream. The scream did not reach his ears because the air had disappeared. He was trapped in the gap of what was supposed to be a window. Then, after seeing the intense black of space, he knew that he...

 The Greenhouse When I was a child, I used to play in the greenhouse. I used to imagine that behind those huge callas, tiny beings lived, some hairy, others beardless, accompanied by fairies and nymphs. Nearby lived orchids of a deep pink color, which contrasted with the lush green of the stems of slender red roses. So, thinking of those little beings and how to make their lives easier, I dedicated myself to building them some small wooden houses in which I had everything necessary to make them feel comfortable. One cold morning I sneaked into the greenhouse. The raindrops slid down the glass roof and their melodious presence called nature to pray. Suddenly, from inside one of the little houses, there slipped a sound that I interpreted as a nervous but friendly greeting. H e was a delightful little creature.   He was called Shzum. He confessed to me that he was the spirit of Mozart. And with the rest of his companions, also spirits of musicians, they were performing eternal co...

  The Wood Carving On a trip to learn about life in Tanzania, an aboriginal man approached me suspiciously and showed me a wood carving. His pleading eyes asked me to give him something for that piece of art. A warrior was preparing his spear to hunt a lion. It was a crude wood carving, naïve, but there was something inexplicable about it that made one look at it unhurriedly. That same night when I went to the tent to sleep, I took the carving with me and placed it next to the pillow. As I gazed at it, I fell asleep. I had a horrible nightmare in which a lion was attacking me and luckily, a warrior similar to the one in the wood carving came out of the thicket and faced the lion, saving my life. The following morning I woke with a sharp pain in my side. He had a deep wound that appeared to have been caused by a lion's claw. I looked at the wood carving and the warrior lay bloodied and badly wounded, while the lion was preparing to end his life. La talla  En un viaje para ...

The Postman When he was a child, he always looked forward to the arrival of the postman. Once a week, someone sent him a drawing with an affectionate dedication. Years passed, and the drawings gradually became true works of art, while the dedications turned into poems filled with feeling. Letters carry feelings. Perhaps that was why he became a postman. He devoted his life to bringing hope to every home. One day, he knocked on a door to deliver a letter, and a little girl opened it. She greeted him with a broad smile. “Do you know who I am?” Surprised, the postman shook his head. “I am the person who sends you a drawing and a dedication every week.” “But you are only a little girl, and I have been receiving those letters for more than thirty years.” The girl smiled. “I am feeling itself, and your eyes see me through the gaze of innocence. You see me as I was when I first began sending you those letters. For feeling and innocence, time does not exist.” El cartero Tu españ...

  Sinbad's Diary Day X-2098 of the lunar calendar. Prospecting operations on the lunar soil were following a strict control program. In the silence of empty space, the huge hundred-meter-diameter drills, activated by remote control, had begun their work scratching the surface of the Earth's satellite. Unexpectedly, the four heads, which had only penetrated a few hundred meters, were failing to advance. An impenetrable surface was refusing to allow those great blades to continue piercing the ground. Telemetry from Earth was indicating that it was a metallic structure of amaranth color, which extended over a wide surface. Activities were paralyzed for several days, and Sinbad, who was responsible for monitoring operations from the space center in French Guiana, was worriyng about the delay in the project. Surprisingly, alarm signals went off at the space center as the drilling machines had begun to function without any intervention from control personnel. The following message ...

 Your Secret I'm living with your secret. It is a constant thought. It fills me with despair. It destroys me. It turns my soul inside out. I know that you are unaware that I know your secret, and you look at me with that imploring blue gaze, as though trying to create an impenetrable veil between your eyes and your secret. But sometimes I have the feeling that you do know. Because you lower your gaze, and when I look into your eyes again, I can see unshed tears and an infinite sadness in your expression. Tu secreto Estoy viviendo con tu secreto. Es un pensamiento constante. Me desespera. Me destruye. Me vuelve el alma del revés. Sé que ignoras que conozco tu secreto, y me miras con esa mirada azul, implorante, para crear un velo impenetrable entre tu mirada y tu secreto. Pero, a veces, tengo la impresión de que sí lo sabes. Porque bajas la mirada y, cuando vuelvo a buscar tus ojos, adivino lágrimas contenidas y una tristeza infinita en tu expresión.

Candle A sea breeze came to extinguish the light of a candle, and in the darkness of the night, the candle was lost. She groped her way to a small room and, without knowing it, she placed herself next to a small vase of flowers. When the flowers saw the slender candle, they were surprised that it was out and smiled at it. Then, the candle blushed so much that a spark lit its wick, illuminating and giving life to the delicate skin of the flowers. Candela Una brisa marina vino a apagar la luz de una candela, y en la oscuridad de la noche, la candela se perdió. A tientas se dirigió a un pequeño salón y, sin saberlo, se situó junto a un jarroncito de flores. Cuando las flores vieron a la esbelta candela se extrañaron de que estuviera apagada y le sonrieron. Entonces, la candela se ruborizó tanto que una chispa prendió su mecha iluminando y dando vida a la delicada piel de las flores.  

 The Guardian The narrow path led to a strange place populated by sinister trees. Only the initiates knew the destination of that inhospitable path. It was a small grotto guarded by a jealous guardian to whom visitors had to identify themselves. For over five hundred years he had done his job flawlessly. No one who did not belong to that lodge had managed to cross the dark threshold. He never knew what was happening inside that place and what those adepts were doing. But one day someone went to visit him The and told him that all those who entered that place were not people. They were thoughts, and that he himself had been controlling the access of those thoughts to the Buddha's mind. He was responsible for the purity of the Buddha's thoughts. El guardián El camino angosto conducía a un lugar extraño poblado por árboles siniestros. Sólo los iniciados conocían el destino de aquel inhóspito camino. Era una pequeña gruta custodiada por un celoso guardián ante el cual los visitante...

  Discovery Proxima Centauri b fue durante mucho tiempo el planeta deseado por los científicos para establecer una base experimental fuera del sistema solar. El astronauta abrió la escotilla que permitía salir al vehículo oruga. Lentamente, ocupó su asiento y dio la orden de que el vehículo se dirigiera al suroeste, una posición cercana al montículo Domne. Los sistemas de identificación y seguimiento habían detectado la existencia de un objeto semienterrado que parecía ser una especie de tablón. Al acercarse, la pantalla presentaba la imagen de una superficie lisa en la que se distinguían las letras QR parcialmente borradas. El astronauta dio la orden de desplegar el brazo articulado y con extremo cuidado se desenterró aquel extraño objeto. Para su sorpresa, era un estandarte de las legiones romanas con la inscripción SPQR (Senatus Populusque Romanus). Era una prueba de la existencia de planetas replicantes en un universo en contracción. La vieja teoría de Wegener que predice la et...