Twilight's Flash Fiction / Relatos cortos crepusculares

Autora: Natalie English version : An extraordinary Carracosta story El más oscuro de los recuerdos   Era una noche más en Serene Village. Esa noche no fue tan tranquila como la mayoría de las noches, ya que la lluvia caía a cántaros. Un rayo atravesó el cielo mientras el trueno retumbaba poco después. El viento sacudía violentamente las ramas de los árboles.   Las casas estaban herméticamente cerradas. Los vecinos habían comprobado que las puertas estuvieran bien cerradas. Todo el mundo estaba intentando dormir a pesar del ruido de la tormenta.   Carracosta descansaba en su cama, tratando de dormir. La lluvia le recordó aquella noche de hacía dos años. La noche del día en que sucedió aquello. Las aletas de Carracosta descansaban sobre su cabeza.   Estos recuerdos no deberían acuciarme en estos momentos. ¡Ella está aquí ahora y eso es lo que importa! Pensó Carracosta. Miró por la ventana al cielo cubierto por la tormenta. —Ha pasado hora y media. ¿Tod...

  The Crimson Place In my dreams I have discovered a crimson place. At first, when he chose me, its image made me uneasy, but I admit that he was attracting me. Slowly, I made my way to it. The trees formed a dense roof of green and blue and folded behind my steps, thus closing my return. As I moved towards the center, time went back faster and faster. So when I got to the center I had become a helpless little boy. The crimson grass was growing and swayed when the soft orange wind was present, and the thoughts, turned into great multi-colored birds, flew over the transparent pearls that the trees dropped and then they were ascending towards infinity carried by the multi-colored birds.   El lugar carmesí En mis sueños he descubierto un lugar carmesí. Al principio, cuando me eligió, su imagen me produjo un cierto desasosiego, pero reconozco que me atraía. Con paso lento, me dirigí hacia él. Los árboles formaban un tupido techo de color verde y azul y se plegaban tras mis...

  Passion Passion woke up one day naked. She did not know where to take shelter and thought that a good place could be the heart of a teenager from Tuscany. And from there, from that extraordinary heart, she began to draw art, to compose the melodies that accompany to her frind the time, and to fill the interstices of the soul, those that speak with infinity. And she thought that Leonardo's name was a good name for a heart as strong as that was. And she accompanied him until his heart stopped beating. And then she settled down on each of his works so that his heart, in some way, would continue to live among us forever.   Pasión La pasión se despertó un día desnuda. No sabía dónde cobijarse y pensó que un buen lugar podía ser el corazón de un adolescente de la Toscana. Y desde allí, desde aquel extraordinario corazón, empezó a dibujar el arte, a componer las melodías que acompañan a su amigo el tiempo y a rellenar los intersticios de alma, aquellos que hablan con el inf...

  Eternal Beings They are on the lookout for our movements. They are eternal, they do not need air to live. They watch the eons go by and how the planets transform. In their presence, time becomes small, it becomes a mere toy of their plans. And their plans are to stay. They can be tiny or they can be gigantic ones, but they all live in silence, waiting. Nobody knows that they are alive and in their own way they love us because they see us suffer and live. And when the end of time comes they will be there to explain everything they have seen. They are feminine beings, they are stones.   Seres eternos Están al acecho de nuestros movimientos. Ellos son eternos, no necesitan el aire para vivir. Ven pasar los eones y cómo se transforman los planetas. Ante su presencia, el tiempo se hace pequeño, se convierte en un mero juguete de sus planes. Y sus planes son los de permanecer. Pueden ser minúsculos o pueden ser gigantes, pero todos ellos viven en silencio, esperando. Nadie...

The Diary On my sixteenth birthday someone gifted me a diary. Bright blue pastes and in the center the image of the constellation Orion. When I opened it, a strange dedication surprised me: "So you can control the time." At that moment I interpreted the word "control" in the sense of organizing my time. I took writing the diary seriously and for a little over two years I was recording on its pages everything that happened to me and what I thought and felt for the people around me. A sad event made me stop writing and the diary was left in the bargueño desk of an old cabinet for many years. Back from a strange trip to the East, without knowing it, I began to remove all the things from that bargueño desk, and among them the diary, with its bright blue covers. I opened it to the page where I had left a mark and read what I had written many years before: “Today is the most dire day of my life. Due to my recklessness, my friend Sharon has suffered a serious ac...

Abandonment He is a young man. Dirty, with a beard and dressed in rags. The few times I have tried to approach him, he pace fast, as if expecting an insult from me or that I might inflict some physical harm on him. I am moved by his sadness. Whenever I have crossed that park I have seen it. Never sitting, always roaming around with a plastic bag in which, I suppose, he carries the only thing he has. I have wondered many times where he will sleep. Surely the street is his refuge. Now, every night when I say goodbye to the day, I remember him and send him my wishes that he is well. Desamparo Es joven. Sucio, con barba y vestido con harapos. Las pocas veces que he intentado acercarme a él, aligera sus pasos, como esperando de mí un insulto o que le pueda infligir algún daño físico. Me conmueve su tristeza. Siempre que he cruzado ese parque lo he visto. Nunca sentado, siempre deambulando con una bolsa de plástico en la que, supongo, lleva lo único que tiene. Me he pregun...

W hen Time Thickens I have learned that I must not ask questions, any kind of questions. I have to allow time flows and not to thicken. My lives and my deaths depend on my having the ability to move time. I mean the warm time, the time of emotions. It must flow to be alive. If it thickens, it dies. Cuando el tiempo se espesa He aprendido que no debo hacer preguntas, ningún tipo de preguntas. Tengo que dejar que el tiempo fluya y que no se espese. Mi vida y mi muerte dependen de que tenga la capacidad de mover el tiempo. Me refiero al tiempo cálido, el tiempo de las emociones. Debe fluir para estar vivo. Si se espesa, muere.