Literatura en Español

Excerpt:

The sun. It burns too much for this time of year. Strange. That didn’t use to happen. He says we should do something this weekend. He and I keep walking. I simply say sure. We walk. Traffic light. We stop.

Across the avenue, a woman behind the wheel of her car is relieved of the weight of her necklace by a man who then bolts down a side alley, the necklace in hand. The light changes. We keep going.

I ask him if things finally worked out with that girl. He frowns. Spits. Can only manage a curse. I ask if nothing happened. He spits again. We walk on. Better aim this time.

With a bitter voice he says no, that he hopes she drops dead. We laugh.

I ask if he thinks they’re actually going to do something to our classmates in the end. He spits again. Says that one’s dedicated to them.

We stop. Keep walking.

He asks how things are with the lazy one. I know exactly what I’m supposed to say. I tell him they’re fine. And deep down, that answer doesn’t feel like a lie—it’s genuinely how I feel.

Traffic light. He turns to me and says his scholarship was approved; he’s going to be able to study abroad just like he’d planned.

I congratulate him while feeling that sharp little sting in my chest, knowing he will get to study what he wants while I have to keep my passion caged.

He says that even though he’s leaving the country, he’ll still come back to spend New Year’s at the beach like we agreed. I tell him of course, that it’ll be our new annual tradition.

We walk on.

I ask if we’re walking back. He shakes his head. Tells me I can walk back if I want, he has to head the other way...

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–Continue reading in its original Castilian language at https://fictograma.com/ , an open source Spanish community of writers–