The time of the trip

It was time. He took the blackened spoon and prepared the ticket for his trip. He loaded the syringe with the bubbling fluid reviving in the spoon. He looked for the ankle vein, the one hidden in his sock and there he pricked himself.

The journey began with a drowsiness that elevated him to unknown places and kept him there, not knowing very well where he was, but he felt happy.

He escaped from a reality he did not like, which prevented him from throwing himself over a bridge and burying his cowardice once again.

Image source: Pixabay

Se acabó la fiesta

La fiesta siempre tiene un fin y solo hay que esperar a la siguiente.

The party always has an end and you just have to wait for the next one.

Los colores del techo

La luz tiene la capacidad de transformar cualquier espacio.

Light has the ability to transform any space.

The oblivion

The night fell again like every winter night, cold and lonely. He got tired of counting the lanterns that illuminated the wadis of that nameless city. He made a sandwich with some bread, which he stuffed with some stale sausage that he had found in a garbage can in a nearby supermarket. He took out all the documentation he had: the ID card and an old expired passport. He looked for the last time at what he looked like, he didn't even recognize himself anymore. He took some old newspaper sheets and set them on fire with his lighter. When the flames were at their peak, he threw his ID card and passport at the pyre. He grabbed his sandwich and ate It, Watching it burn the only thing that kept him tied to the world.

Image source: own

Tajinaste blanco de Gran Canaria

El tajinaste blanco es una planta endémica de la isla de Gran Canarias y también se encuentra en Lanzarote y en Fuerteventura con una floración preciosa.

https://www3.gobiernodecanarias.org/medusa/wiki/index.php?title=Tajinaste_blanco

Reflejo perpetuo de la bicicleta

Ahí estuvo la bicicleta y dejó su huella.

That's where the bike was and it left its mark.

La hora del viaje

Era la hora. Cogió la cucharilla ennegrecida y preparó el billete para su viaje. Cargó la jeringuilla con el líquido burbujeante que revivía en la cuchara. Buscó la vena del tobillo, esa que se escondía en el calcetín y allí se pinchó.

El viaje comenzaba con un sopor que lo elevaba hacia lugares siempre desconocidos y se mantenía allí, sin saber muy bien dónde estaba, pero se sentía feliz.

Así escapaba de una realidad que no le gustaba, que evitaba que se tirase por un puente y enterraba, una vez más, a su cobardía.

Fuente de la imagen: Pixabay