DON`T PLAY

(Estación Unión Square. Seis de la mañana)

MUJER: (Saca el teléfono móvil. Habla sola.) ¡Mierda, me quedé sin batería! (Rebusca en su bolso. Saca un papel que está doblado en dos. Lo desdobla y lo lee en voz alta.) Aquí lo pone claro: estación Unión Square y estoy en esa estación. Luego salir y coger la calle 14 hasta la calle Unión Square, y después subir por la calle 15 hasta el teatro Daryl Roth. Es fácil. (Grita.) ¿Fácil?

(Un hombre disfrazado de Batman se gira al oír el grito. Se quedan unos instantes mirándose uno al otro. Ella se acerca al hombre.)

MUJER: ¿Habla usted español?

BATMAN: (Con voz ronca y con mucho acento.) Un poco.

MUJER: (Habla despacio.) Necesito ir al teatro Daryl Roth que está en la calle 15.

BATMAN: Está cerca. Tiene que subir por allí y salir de la estación. (Señala la salida con el dedo índice de la mano derecha.) Luego girar a la izquierda, continuar recto y luego de nuevo a la izquierda.

(Silencio.)

MUJER: ¿Es usted actor?

BATMAN: No, no soy actor. Soy Superhéroe.

MUJER: (Incrédula.) ¿Superhéroe? (Pausa.) Pues podrías ayudarme a llegar a mi destino. Estoy perdida y no quiero faltar a mi primera audición en Nueva York. Soy actriz.

BATMAN: No puedo. Ya se acabó mi jornada laboral.

MUJER: ¿Los superhéroes no trabajan las veinticuatro horas?

BATMAN: No, eso es un mito. Es imposible trabajar las veinticuatro horas. También tenemos que descansar.

MUJER: ¿Tienes teléfono móvil? Es que necesito llamar a mi amiga. El mio tiene la batería agotada.

BATMAN: Sí, tengo un Batphone de última generación.

MUJER: (Extrañada.) ¿Qué es un Batphone?

BATMAN: Un teléfono móvil normal, pero con muchas prestaciones.

MUJER: ¿Me lo presta?

BATMAN: No, no puedo. Es solo para mi uso personal.

MUJER: Tengo una emergencia y usted es un Superhéroe.

BATMAN: Sí, soy un Superhéroe y usted no tiene una emergencia. No saber llegar a un lugar no es una emergencia. Usted lo que tiene es ignorancia, pero es normal cuando se llega por primera vez a un país que uno no conoce. Se ignoran muchos aspectos del país.

MUJER: (Enfadada.) ¿De verdad que no me va a prestar el teléfono?

BATMAN: No, lo siento mucho. (Se oye el sonido de un tren.) Además, ahí viene mi tren. Mucha suerte con la audición y recuerde que tiene que ser más convincente. Los actores tienen que serlo.

MUJER: (Elevando el tono de voz.) ¡Váyase a la mierda! ¿Le parece lo convincente?

(La mujer se gira y se va sin esperar la respuesta de Batman. Sale de escena. Se queda solo Batman en el arcén, el escenario va oscureciendo poco a poco hasta el oscuro total. De fondo se oye el sonido del metro llegando a la estación.)

Fuente de las imágenes: El País. Natan Dvir 

The past always ends up coming back

She thought she was a free thinker until she found the swastika of her past.

Source of the images: Pixabay and @talentclub

El precio del objetivo

Ella quería alcanzar la sabiduría de los grandes sabios, llegar a ser tan poderosa como ellos, pero sabía que el comienzo sería muy complicado porque llegar a ser una de las grandes era casi una misión imposible. Necesitaba mucho tiempo y no perder el aliento a las primeras de cambio. Perseverar hasta conseguir su objetivo, sin perder la esencia que la definía; la humildad.
Comenzó a trabajar sin descanso para alcanzar su objetivo, día y noche. Pasados diez años lo había conseguido. Había llegado por fin a la cima; la propusieron para el Consejo de Sabios.
Sin embargo, la tarde anterior a su nombramiento todo cambió. Salió de su casa camino a la biblioteca. Un mendigo se le acercó y le pidió una limosna. Ella lo miró con desprecio y le dijo apartándolo con la mano derecha:

—Quítate de mi camino.

Caminó durante unos minutos y se detuvo frente a la biblioteca. Dio media vuelta y regreso a su casa. Una vez allí, hizo una pequeña maleta con lo justo y necesario y se fue para siempre.

Fuente de las imágenes: Pixabay y @talentclub

Introspection

I relaxed, meditated and traversed all the nooks and crannies of my being. I went down to my hells and burned myself; I went up to my heavens and enjoyed myself. Now it's my turn to go out, the problem is that I don't know where, through my hell or through my heaven?

Source of the images: Pixabay and @talentclub

The last route

For her everything was over, the shit had covered her eyes and she never knew very well why. Life had become more complicated for her, little by little, without realizing it, until she found herself with no way out. Now, sitting in an old fruit box, she was preparing the dose of that crap that always made her fly and that, fucking paradox, was the only thing that helped her escape.
To fly upwards, very high, to open her arms, to feel like a princess, queen of the world and light as a feather, beautiful and virginal.
Then he fell hopelessly, his world returned was a cruel fucking world that he had had to live, without hope and without a future. But she didn't care about the fall, neither the hope nor the future, she never cared about breaking her head after a good trip; for her it was worth it, because she had no other way out, she never had it or if she had it. He rode past her on his grey horse.

She looked for a vein where she could prick herself, they were almost gone and she found one in her right ankle; the last way. He took the white lady, put her in the spoon and thought:

"A lot of shit for this trip.

But she didn't care and went on with the cursed ritual that elevated her to the heavens. She flew again, but this time she felt different, so much so, that she found herself lying near the cardboard and plywood shack, with the syringe of a thousand uses, hanging from her ankle, as if it were just another appendage of her body.

Soon she heard the voice of her father calling her, she turned around and there she was at the end of a path of light. She could also recognize her brother, who was the same as when she left, and her grandparents had not changed either. He walked towards the light; at last it was all over.

Source of the images: Pixabay and @talentclub

Selfish

I wanted to be me; me, only me, with no one else but me, until I looked in the mirror and didn't see myself, then I discovered that it wasn't me anymore, that it was just my ghost.

Source of the images: Pixabay and @talentclub

The last way

For her it was all over, the shit had covered her eyes and she never really knew why. His life had been getting more and more complicated, little by little, without realizing it, until he found himself with no way out. Now, sitting on an old fruit box, she was preparing the shot of that filth that always made her fly and that, paradoxically, was the only thing that helped her escape. Flying up, very high, opening your arms, feeling like a princess, queen of the world and light as a feather, beautiful and virginal. Then he fell hopelessly, his world was once again the cruel fucking world he had lived in, without hope and without a future. But she didn't care about the fall, hope or future, she never cared about breaking her neck after a good trip, it was worth it for her, because she had no other way out, she never had it or if she did, she rode her grey horse.

He looked for a vein where he could hardly get a puncture, and found one in his right ankle, the last line. He took the white lady, put her in the spoon and thought "a lot of butter for this trip". But she didn't care and went on with the cursed ritual that lifted her up to heaven. She flew again, but this time she felt so different, so different, that she saw herself lying near the cardboard and plywood shack, with the syringe, a thousand uses, hanging from her ankle, as if it were just another appendage of her body.

Soon after, she heard her father's voice calling out to her, turned around and there she was at the end of a path of light. He was also able to recognize his brother, who was just as he was when he left and his grandparents had not changed either. He walked towards the light; at last it was all over.

Source of the images: Pixabay and @talentclub