The sand was beginning to form continuous dunes. We had been walking in circles for hours. The sad thing was to keep walking and thoughts out of the soul. Despite our efforts to return, it was already too late. Darkness would reign and we would have to spend another night in the desert wasteland of death and hissing lizards. Against all repressed rage I must have imagined that death was a beaten dog staring with sad eyes. It was impossible to survive, the parched throat was already a piercing memory. Hunger was slowly taking its toll of flesh and fat. But the march continued, the freedom to belong was more than a chimera. Freedom was a few more heartbeats away, a few more memories. I began to imagine the orchids in the mansion. The blanket of little flowers rustling as I walked, I could feel the palpable and now hateful humidity. I could feel to my bones the unmistakable scent of each pollen segment and the harmonious sound of the bees. I could, if I wanted to, die imagining the seagulls in the northern sea, the saltpeter and a dozen seaweeds between my toes. I could stop walking and see the stars for the last time, with my eyes closed. To be eternal, to leave forever the pains and focus on the thinness of your face.
Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version)
La arena comenzaba a formar dunas continuas. Caminábamos en círculos desde hacía horas. Lo triste era mantener la marcha y los pensamientos fuera del alma. Pese a los esfuerzos por regresar, ya era demasiado tarde. La oscuridad reinaría y tendríamos que pasar otra noche en el desértico paramo de muerte y lagartijas silbantes. Contra toda rabia reprimida debí imaginar que la muerte era un perro apaleado y mirando con tristes ojos. Era imposible sobrevivir, la garganta reseca era ya un recuerdo punzante. El hambre cobraba lentamente su cuota de carne y grasa. Pero la marcha continuó, la libertad de pertenecernos era más que una quimera. La libertad estaba a unos cuántos latidos más, unos cuantos recuerdos. Comencé a imaginas las orquídeas de la casona. El manto de florecillas crujiendo al caminar, podía sentir la humedad palpable y ahora odiosa. Podía sentir hasta los huesos el olor inconfundible de cada segmento de polen y el sonido armonioso de las abejas. Podía, si quería, morir imaginando las gaviotas en el mar del norte, el salitre y una docena de algas entre los dedos de los pies. Podía dejar de caminar y ver por última vez las estrellas, con los ojos cerrados. Ser eterno, dejar por siempre los dolores y centrarme en la delgadez de tu rostro.
Your words are very descriptive. And although short, you are able to fully describe a man that was close to death in a very emotional way. Well done.
Gracias por el comentario. es un placer que le guste a las personas lo que se escribe.
La agonía de los que mueren en el desierto.
gracias x el comentario men
This is such a beautiful piece. You leave the end for us to imagine. But what could it be except death? The narrator's only choice is to decide whether to continue or submit and thus relinquish life with thoughts about his love as his last conscious moment.
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Hola, un placer sus palabras y sí, leeremos los demás autores. Éxitos.
Welcome, @leonardoalmaguer. I believe this is the first story I have read from you here (possible I am wrong for my memory is fallible). The story is evocative and beautiful. Some of the imagery is startling. For example:
I am guessing you must be familiar with English for the translation does not mangle badly your Spanish version (I know a little Spanish and love reading this in the original).
I hope you keep writing for the community. In order to avoid misunderstanding, it would be wise for you to acquaint yourself with our Rules and our Manifesto. A versatile writer will have no problem accommodating these community rules and still write creatively.
Regards,
AG
jeje esa historia se me ocurrió de un tirón ayer, me he propuesto escribir contra viento y marea uno o dos artículos o cuentos por día, que me gustaría publicar en esta plataforma, no se bien si es permitido.
Si es la primera que escribo para esta comunidad, y ya con excelente amigos que le dejen comentarios a los demás me doy por satisfecho. Acá tiene un amigo.