Posteado por: princessdina | 23/06/2009

The Reader

Lo cierto es que no sabía si hacer un intento por corregir la probablemente equivocada gramática, al final no lo he hecho. Esta corta historia está inspirada en el momento en que mi amiga Lorena me interrumpió durante la lectura de la última página de “2010: Odisea dos”:

He was, as every night, sitting on his favorite chair, reading one of my favorite books. As he finished the page, he heard the bell ringing.  He doubted if answering or not. The bell rang again, he stood up and left the book, closed, over his chair. There was no need to mark the page: it was the last one. He doubted once again, right in front of the door. It really didn’t matter who it was; he would think of that person as an interrumption to his reading. Would it worth the thing to talk to this person with the loudest “go away” ever written all over his face? The bell rang for the 3rd time. He made up his best smile, and he opened the wooden door.

The thieft abruptly crossed the frontier and entered his world: a wonderful place full of both hope and delusion, happiness and fear. But it seems the thief couldn’t see it, as he shot the reader.

He was now sitting on the floor, with blood all over his hands and chest. The hope and delusion were still around, but the chances of knowing which one was correct were decreasing among with the quantity of blood he had left on his body.  When he saw the thief transpassing all his money to the bag, he avoided yelling to him. Instead of that, he whispered:

“Do you see the book on my chair? Could you please read the last page for me?”

That was the last thing I heard before the thief shot me too. I had never seen so much of my blood out of my body.

One of the endings.

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