viernes, 8 de octubre de 2010


(short stories, “17 SIMPLES STORIES”)

Bianca shuts the pen with the few sheep they have, every evening she does that, she also shuts in the hens, the calves and also the pantry door. Then she walks home with her legs covered with burs shivering from the cold air of the mountains.
Bianca and her suspended life. Bianca with that old and already finished father that only gave her the life and nothing more just nothingness. Bianca and the stars. But she walks out, inmutably, when she hears the only talk her fathers mutters in all the day –Bianca, shut in!
Then she goes out of the little hut and shuts in everything she finds: the sheep, the hens, the calves and the pantry door, She does everything he asks her while she sees him getting older and older, she bakes him the bread with the best flour and with milk so it is most tender so as not to harm his few and old teeth. And she does not complain when she washes the dishes in the icy water of the brook, She buys new batteries for the radio, she mends socks and dishcloths, and even patches the old oilcloth of the table. She even goes to fish in the small brook with a line and a small tin so his food is not everyday noodles, potatoes and meat. When she went to the nearby village to buy their small needs, she came back very as if she wanted this trip never to end.

She went around the needs of her father, she put him to bed at night and woke him up in the morning, washes him, cut his hair and at night, put out the candles before it went very dark, so She, the Death, in case of coming, woulnt see him. She waited for the night, to draw the curtains and from her bed, strategically placed under the window, she could see the faraway stars that the Patagonian frost turns more brilliant, like an intimate present, just for her soon as she gets into bed, Bianca gets lost in a strange journey.

She is somebody else, lives another life, she enjoys her nightly exile, and dreams she has friends, a husband, children, she has warmth and another destiny. So she sleeps till next day, when at daybreak she gets up, goes to loose the sheep, the hens, the calves and opens the pantry door. Once more the day, the light, the camp, the hard work and her father. And the slow hours until evening when she starts back to shut in.

And, above all, Bianca shuts in. She shuts in her desires of leaving the candles alight, all night in case She, the Death, in case she goes by, sees the old man for one and once and so, later, she can get lost in her own world among the stars.-

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