lunes, 26 de noviembre de 2007

Last Hope Motel: Dead End.

Right now I'm drunk. It's 4 a.m. and I'm driving nowhere. The night's cool and quiet; I'm not. I go as fast as I can wishing maybe a rabbit or the jackal chasing it will get caught in the headlights making my reflexes spring into action, making me turn the steering wheel violently in the hopes that the little animal won't be just another innocent victim, like myself... the scared little creep looking back at me, standing in the middle of the highway frozen in fear; then my reaction and then this car bouncing out of control until it crashes against a cactus tree. Away from everything there'd be no help... it'll be a lonely, painful and slow death. I can see it a thousand times in my mind... but, am I not already dying?

This thing I'm feeling... at first I thought it was rage... now I know it's not rage, is frustration... in the end, just sadness... plain and simple, dark and blue sadness; just like this desert.

Looking into the rearview mirror I can see how everything´s changed, despite we promised each other it never would. Things doesn't work all the time; I stopped caring some time ago. She was my life, now there's nothing left.

What's that? Are those neon lights? I fear I'm coming closer at an increasing speed. I don't recognize the distance between things anymore, and I don't really care: the bottle of gin at my side has taken care of it. Suddenly it's too late when I realize I'm driving my car directly against a building, a motel of sorts. I don't bother to close my eyes and wait for the collision. If this is the end, it'd make a good death. I'm almost there where I finally die nailed to a wall, crushed inside my car's cabin. I can't wait for the impact. I resist once again the urge to close my eyes, the thrill exciting the liquor in my blood, my heart pumping faster and faster... but then reality loses its grip on me as I break through the motel as if it were an illusion, its walls made of the same fabrics dreams are made of. Instead of crashing against it I found out the place rests at the end of a cliff which sends me flying away into the darkness of whatever lies beyond the end of the world.

7 comentarios:

Ricardo dijo...

El relato de este amigo revela un detalle importante sobre la naturaleza del dichoso Motel. Es como un purgatorio o algo así. Buena redacción: Para este último capitulo y después de la lectura de los demás relatos, en mi imaginación existe cohesión entre el lugar, los personajes descritos y las sensaciones a transmitir. Aún siendo muy cortos han establecido una idea completa y clara de la idea general sin restarle la posibilidad de seguir aportandole creatividad con más personajes y situaciones.

Liliana O. dijo...

yo no digo cosas tan inteligentes como Ricardo pero está muy bueno! se puede ver muy claro! mira en lo que pensé:

insantidad dijo...

gracias lilo! me alegra que te haya gustado!

y sip, tienes razón, ese video es una buena referencia visual para lo que se está gestando aquí.

dale un beso a juanpa de mi parte!

Liliana O. dijo...

dejen de ser tan maricas y de ponerme en medio eee ave maria, dáselo personalmente y no me cuenten porque me dan celos

insantidad dijo...


está bien, no te enterarás de nada jamás nunca!

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