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Immortal

The storm was falling down like a giant on the city. Every large windows of the most beautiful buildings constructed centuries ago were closed. It was possible to see the water drops playing between them, pushing each other like best friends.

The image hypnotized to one particular mind. In the big avenue, the lampposts were darkening the soul of the passers-by, and in some of the most majestic houses endured by the time and the elements with all its subdued lights except one, in a small window of the second floor, without curtains or blinds, afflicted by the the storm, a soul was observed almost fearless the continuous playing of the big friends.

The almost indistinguishable rustle of the wind was flogging with fury the fragile window, the trees were accompanying the tuning of the places and were exchanging words for the coldest winter days; when the nights are long and the days are a fleeting passage. But what would the winds be explained with so many secretiveness and insistence, what was important that it was not transferring the snowstorm?

The empty soul was looking the going and coming from the sheets of the cypresses front the front the cemetery: they were turning and returns, they were not stopping dancing. The water droplets were playing on the crystal. Those black eyes were not stopping, looking and the winds flogging and flogging, and the soul was raising immersed in a beautiful song. They were calling it between fresh rustles to the ear and strong uproar. She asked, “what do you want of me, immortal winds, what can I possess?””Life”, answered a worn-out and hoarse voice in the distance, “the life that I wish and that you deny, I want to be mortal to be able to breathe, to smell, to speak, to shout and to jump”.

“I want to be immortal”, said the girl, “to be able to live without suffering, to be able to breathe knowing that I will always do it, to be able to jump, skip, to bleed without fear of having an end, not to age nor to see the mature fruit of the age, to be able to admit me when my reflex should look in a mirror, be able to smile without fear of of that the wrinkles embitter my young mermaid face”.

“You can obtain the immortality if it is what you wish.”

“How can I obtain so valued present?”

“Open the window in which you are resting, raise yourself without fear, opens the arms, close the eyes and start flying away. When you have already opened the eyes again, you will never die”.

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National CPR Association

Sombras al atardecer

Trailer de la novela Sombras al Atardecer, colgada semanalmente en mi blog.

 

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 ¿QUIEN SOY?

Mi nombre es Lídia Gilabert y aquí dejo mis humildes creaciones, diseñadas con el mayor mimo y amor para el disfrute de todos los lectores.

 

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