Spanish Freewrite 23 de junio de 2020 - Alergia

Ya llevaba varios días con la nariz roja y los ojos como platos de remolacha, “es la alergia” le dijo a su mamá, pero esta no se creía el cuento. La conocía desde niña y fue la más sana de todos sus hijos. “¿Alergia a qué?” le volvió a preguntar. Su hija la miró con incomodidad, no quería que su madre comenzara a hurgar en su vida, porque conocía bien sus habilidades para sacarle hasta la última palabra cada vez que se lo proponía, siempre había sido así. “Alergia a los rumores, mamá. No es nada”.

Unas manchas de rubor en polvo en la camisa de su marido, olor a perfume barato y un recibo mal escondido le habían mostrado los nuevos rumbos que estaba tomando su matrimonio. Roberto le dijo: “no es nada, siempre tan manipuladora, un día vas a encontrar lo que no se te ha perdido” con esas palabras había cerrado el intento de conversación de lo que ya ella sabía, pero su madre, no, su madre nunca sería la primera en enterarse porque las paredes comenzarían a moverse como dientes flojos sin que la tierra tiemble y su mansión de alfeñique, prefabricada con cartón de ilusiones caería irremediablemente.

For several days now he had a red nose and eyes like beet dishes, "it's an allergy," he told his mother, but she didn't believe the story. He had known her since she was a child and was the healthiest of all his children. "Allergy to what?" he asked again. Her daughter looked at her uncomfortably, she did not want her mother to start rummaging through her life, because she knew well his abilities to get the last word out of him every time he tried, it had always been like that. “Allergy to rumors, mom. Is nothing".

Stains of powdered blush on her husband's shirt, the smell of cheap perfume, and a poorly concealed receipt had shown her the new directions her marriage was taking. Roberto told her: "it is nothing, always so manipulative, one day you are going to find what you have not lost" with those words he had closed the conversation attempt of what she already knew, but his mother, no, his mother she would never be the first to know because the walls would start to move like loose teeth without the earth shaking, and her mansion of weak, prefabricated with cardboard of illusions would fall hopelessly.