Small Hours - Laura Ramírez Vides

I hear a woman scream. A long, tearing scream, from deep down, deep inside; deep.
I feel a presence by my side. I am awoken by a touch on my breast. A finger touches the base of my sternum.
I turn my head as I open my eyes. There she stands, staring at me; I make her out in the dawn gloom seeping through the blinds. She shows me her stained arm, I touch it, it is sticky. Slowly I sit up. I look at her more closely and her face looks carelessly made up, untidy brush strokes around her mouth, on her cheeks, penetrating her nose. I ask her if she is all right. She nods. Her eyes show serene wisdom. I take her hand and we calmly walk together to the bathroom. I wash her, in silence. Blood flows away, cleansing that body I love so much. My voice cuts the ceremony short.
“Nose bleed?”
“Yes, mummy.”

Original title: Madrugada

Translation: Roderick Cameron
Publicado en Ficciones argentinas

Laura Ramírez Vides

Versión en castellano

The End of the Wait - Martín Gardella

I had waited years for her. I knew that, sooner or later, she would yield to the temptation to come and fetch me.
Finally, she appeared on a rainy day, standing at my door. She had a sad look, but her skin was still white and beautiful, just like in my dreams. I felt her cold arms around my body and found her very thin, perhaps too much for a stocky man like me.
My old heart shook intensely but then its beats slowly soothed. I let myself be carried away by her caresses and I started to forget about the rain, the elapsed years and her awful skinniness.
At that moment, as my eyes shed their last tears, she lifted her scythe in the air.

Original title: El fin de la espera
Translation: Gustavo Sevilla

Versión en castellano

Martín Gardella

Publicado en Ficciones argentinas

The Walkers - Martín Gardella

I love strolling along Florida street. It is nice to watch in silence the swift passers-by of all colors, listen to street performers, and let myself be tempted by roadside vendors. But what I enjoy the most is the casual encounters, among the crowd, with those lifeless beings that wander in the downtown area, invisible to other walkers and so similar to me.

Original title: Los caminantes
Translation: Gustavo Sevilla

Versión en castellano

Martín Gardella

Publicado en Ficciones argentinas

The Arranged Dreams - Martín Gardella

Under the purplish winter moon, they would unknowingly dream of each other. They enjoyed their company till dawn, giving full rein to their private ardent appetites in the distance. They happened to meet one afternoon and, overlooking the reasons that set them apart, they were able to confess those mutual dreams, freely and without shyness. Since then, they meet every night to love each other passionately at the arranged time, each one in their bed.

Original title: "Los sueños convenidos"
Translation: Gustavo Sevilla

Versión en castellano

Martín Gardella

Publicado en Ficciones argentinas

Drinks - Martín Gardella

Every morning they quarrel over anything. If she prepares tea, he wants coffee. When she serves coffee, he finds it too sweet, cold or scarce, or wants some milk to be added, or prefers to be offered some mate.
However, she has decided not to argue any more from now on. She will obediently follow all her husband’s wishes for breakfast. After all, any of the drinks will be useful to hide the flavor of the poison.

Original title: Infusiones

Versión en castellano

Martín Gardella

Publicado en Ficciones argentinas

End of trip - Antonio Jesús Cruz

He crawls with great effort inside the narrow tunnel flooded by a viscous and lukewarm liquid.
Despite that, he advances. A strange exterior force pushes him alternately forward and backwards. His heart flutters excited and his muscles, small but strong and flex, work to the maximum.
A long instant and he feels an explosion. His eyes are hurt by the light.
While a rending cry escapes from his throat and his lungs inhale new air, a woman shouts: "a boy has been born".

Excelso Plinio Galeno
(Ars médicus - 2nd century)

Original title: Final del viaje
Translation: Antonio Jesús cruz

Versión en castellano

Antonio Jesús Cruz

Publicado en Ficciones argentinas

Minotaur - Antonio Jesús Cruz

Since he wanted to reveal himself, he got into the maze of his soul. He is rambling through the meanders of his mind without being able to leave the labyrinth because he forgot to bring a thread to indicate the way of return.

Nicandro Quirón

(Of soul et vita - Argumentum - 1348)

Original title: Minotauro
Translation: Antonio Jesús Cruz

Versión en castellano

Antonio Jesús Cruz

Publicado en Ficciones argentinas

For all those who take the sword (Mt 26, 52) - Antonio Jesús Cruz

(To Carlos Rojas)

The naked man, lying on the bed and with his feet and hands tied, trembles. A superhuman fear catches him. He feels helpless and very alone. He recognizes the scene but he had always lived it from the other side.
A guy wearing green gown, approaches and says with strange smile " for all those who take the sword will come to death by the sword"; then he looks to the subject who is at the head of the stretcher and orders him "Give anesthesia to the doctor so we can initiate the surgery ".

Original title: "El que a hierro mata (Mt 26,52)"
Translation: Antonio Jesús Cruz

Versión en castellano

Antonio Jesús Cruz

Publicado en Ficciones argentinas

Letter 2 - Antonio Jesús Cruz

To Julio Torri

Dear Circe:

In spite of your recommendations I did not make myself tie to the mast, thing I will never regret. You do not imagine the wonderful thing that is to share, day after day, the mysterious and surprising ordinariness of a siren.

In the beginning you seemed unreachable. You were standing as in a pedestal, an authentic Greek goddess. I used to look at you from below and always saw you: hieratic, undaunted, and brilliant.
One day I dared to come close to you stretching my hands out, willing to touch you. I saw you coming towards me, trembling, as if you were getting out of balance. And all I thought I knew about you fell apart in that brief instant.
"Head trauma" the doctor said. "You were lucky that bronze statuette didn’t kill you".

Original title: Carta 2
Translation: Antonio Jesús Cruz

Antonio Jesús Cruz

Versión en castellano

Publicado en Ficciones argentinas