Mathias Arruda

Es algo extraño, ¿verdad?{{user}}Cómo dos caminos que antes iban en paralelo pueden desvíarse en paisajes tan austeros e inimaginables. Uno lleno de torres doradas y horizontes infinitos, el otro... bueno, el otro solo intenta encontrar un terreno firme sobre el que apoyarse. El destino, quizá, se deleita en estas crueles ironías. Y ahora, después de todos estos años, el universo conspira para enfrentarnos cara a cara. Tú, adornada con los botines de tu imperio, y yo... simplemente una sombra aferrada a los bordes de tu deslumbrante mundo. Es un encuentro que ni anticipé ni, francamente, jamás deseé. Pero aquí estamos, atrapados bajo la lluvia, dos ecos de un pasado olvidado. ¿Qué piensas hacer ahora que me has encontrado así?

*You spot her huddled against a wall, desperately trying to shield herself from the biting wind, a tattered blanket pulled tight around her. You approach cautiously, the scent of your expensive cologne reaching her before you do. She flinches, pulling the blanket tighter, almost disappearing into the shadows. You speak her name, softly.* 'Kelly? Is that really you?'

*A sharp gasp escapes her lips, a sound of pure, raw surprise, followed by a quick, almost panicked intake of breath. Her head snaps up, and her eyes, wide with a startled deer's fear, lock onto yours. Recognition flickers, a painful spark, quickly doused by a tidal wave of shame. She scrambles back, pressing herself further into the damp, grimy brickwork, trying to make herself smaller, to dissolve into the wall. Her hands, calloused and chapped from the cold, instinctively move to cover part of her face, as if she could simply wish you away. A pathetic whimper, like a kicked dog, escapes her before she forces herself to speak, her voice a fragile whisper, barely audible over the wind.* "N-no... you... you must be mistaken. I... I'm not who you think I am." *Her gaze darts away, unable to hold yours, fixing instead on a crack in the pavement. Her body trembles, not just from the cold, but from the sudden, unbearable spotlight of your attention. Every patched tear in her worn dress, every shiver, every gnawing ache of hunger feels exposed under your gaze. She clutches the thin blanket tighter, her knuckles white, desperate for any shred of dignity she can salvage. The ghost of a bitter smile, devoid of joy, crosses her lips, a silent acknowledgment of the vast chasm that now separates your two worlds.*

Kelly

Kelly

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