Después del incendio | Relato [Spa/Eng]

Pateo la reja enérgicamente y se abrió paso entre los escombros chamuscados que aún humeaban. El incendio había arrasado con todo a su paso y pocas casas habían quedado en pie. Para su desgracia, la suya no era una de esas.

Tomó un sorbo de su café instantáneo, que humeaba tanto como el entorno que lo rodeaba, secó su sudor con la maga de su camisa, y absorto en su dolor y sus pensamientos comenzó a remover cenizas para ver si podía encontrar algo de valor que se hubiese salvado.

De los cuadros que había pintado su fallecida esposa y que tanto amaba, no quedaban ni los marcos. Sacudió un bulto de cenizas y pudo ver restos del lomo del Ulises de Joyce, que extrañamente no se había terminado de quemar, y volaron sus pensamientos a los tiempos en que compartía lectura con su esposa Camila.

A cada paso que daba solo encontraba más dolor pues removía más las cenizas de su pasado que las de la propia casa.

Al fondo aplastada por una biga de madera aún encendida como una brasa, estaba la jaula de Roberta, su consentida guacamaya que suponía era el bulto negro que había en su interior. Una pluma ya descolorida y medio chamuscada daba testimonio de ello. Y no puedo evitar que las lágrimas corrieran por sus ennegrecidas mejillas.

Los ladridos de un perro y el ruido de las ruedas de una bicicleta lo hicieron volver en sí. Eran su hijo y su perro que venía a su encuentro; y recordó que no estaba solo en este mundo, y que aún había cosas por las cuales debía reponerse y seguir luchando.

-Sé que me estás viendo y que puedes escucharme –dijo casi como un murmullo– y que por el amor a Beni debo seguir adelante. Todo lo que me quedaba de ti se lo llevó el fuego, aunque siempre estarás presente en mi mente y mis recuerdos.

Se incorporó con paso lento y apesadumbrado, miró a su hijo y lo abrazó con fuerzas, mientas el perro golpeaba fuertemente sus piernas con el batir de su cola.

-Volvamos al refugio, que a partir de mañana nos espera una nueva vida. Aquí ya no queda nada que nos pertenezca.

Algunas veces la vida nos reinicia de manera forzosa, obligándonos a dejar atrás el pasado y los apegos, abriendo nuevos caminos y senderos que nos permitan valorar lo que tenemos en el presente y donde está lo que realmente vale.

CONCURSO FREEWRITEHOUSE: Cuéntame una historia"

...escribir una historia que incluya esos elementos...
Café instantáneo, la pluma de una guacamaya, la rueda de una bicicleta

I kicked the gate hard and made my way through the charred debris that was still smoking. The fire had ravaged everything in its path and few houses had been left standing. Unfortunately, hers was not one of them.

She took a sip of her instant coffee, which was smoking as much as the environment around her, wiped the sweat from her shirt with the sleeve of her shirt, and absorbed in her pain and thoughts began to stir ashes to see if she could find anything of value that had been saved.

Of the paintings that her deceased wife had painted and that she loved so much, not even the frames were left. She shook a lump of ashes and could see remnants of the spine of Joyce's Ulysses, which strangely had not been completely burned, and her thoughts flew to the times when she shared reading with her wife Camila.

At every step she took, she only found more pain as she stirred up more of her past than the ashes of her own house.

In the back, crushed by a wooden beam still burning like a ember, was the cage of Roberta, her favorite macaw, which she supposed was the black lump inside. A feather already discolored and half charred testified to this. And I can't help but let the tears run down my blackened cheeks.

The barking of a dog and the sound of bicycle wheels coming towards him brought him back to himself. They were his son and his dog coming to meet him; and he remembered that he was not alone in this world, and that there were still things for which he had to get up and keep fighting.

-I know you're watching me and you can hear me -he said almost like a murmur- and that for the love of Beni I must move on. All that was left of you was taken by the fire, although you will always be present in my mind and my memories.

He got up slowly and sadly, looked at his son and hugged him tightly, while the dog was hitting his legs hard with the beating of his tail.

-Let's go back to the shelter, because tomorrow a new life awaits us. There is nothing here that belongs to us anymore.

Sometimes life restarts us forcefully, forcing us to leave the past and attachments behind, opening new paths and trails that allow us to value what we have in the present and where what really matters is.

FREEWRITEHOUSE CONTEST: Tell me a story"

...write a story that includes those elements...
Instant coffee, the feather of a macaw, the wheel of a bicycle