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Harto de escribir historias, decidà vivir una de ellas. Tomé un saco y allà metà algo de ropa, una såbana y una botella de dos litros de agua. No pensé ni siquiera cambiar de ropa. Abrà la puerta y salà a recorrer las calles, sin llaves, sin celular y sin identificación alguna.
Un poderoso aire de libertad se apoderĂł de mĂ. CaminĂ© tantas horas que no me percatĂ© del tiempo y ya empezaba a oscurecer. SeguĂ de frente y justo allĂ, cerca de un bote de basura, me encontrĂ© a un indigente que apilaba unas cuantas cajas de cartĂłn «quizĂĄ para improvisar una confortable cama».
Sentà buena vibra y me acerqué a él.
â Hola amigo, Âżpuedo pasar la noche junto a usted?
Con cierta duda, ese hombre de unos cuarenta años y con acento claramente español, me respondió amablemente,
â SĂ, claro. Ăchese por aquĂ.
DespuĂ©s de un par de horas conversando, compartiendo lo que cada uno de nosotros podĂa aportar. En mi caso, el agua que llevaba en mi saco; y Ă©l, unos panes que el encargado de la panaderĂa de enfrente le habĂa regalado hace un par de dĂas.
Ambos, con la panza llena, bajo una luna llena. EsperĂĄbamos que esa noche no lloviese. No pusimos a contar cada quien su historia. Le escuchĂ© atentamente cada una de sus aventuras. Ăl era un aventurero español que en su Ășltimo viaje habĂa perdido el dedo anular de la mano derecha donde llevaba puesta la alianza de matrimonio. Un par de delincuentes le cortaron el dedo con una cizalla para desprenderle la prenda de oro. Desde entonces, ha vagado por las calles en busca de su amadaâŠ
Esta es Agatha, mi fiel compañera. Se acercó una noche a mà en busca de cariño, cobijo y unas migas de pan. Desde entonces, me sigue a todos lados. Me protege de cualquier maligno roedor. Le llamé Agatha, porque asà se llamaba mi esposa.
Era mi turno. Por lo silencioso y la soledad de la calle, los recuerdos de mi pasado me abatieron. Le comentĂ© que me habĂa cansado de escribir historias, de creer en la gente; quizĂĄ de la comodidad que me brindaba la tecnologĂa. Historias al viento para amigos virtuales. Historias digitales, inmortalizadas en internet.
Mi nuevo amigo, parecĂa no entender un ĂĄpice de lo que le decĂa. Un ronquido de sueño profundo me alertĂł que se habĂa quedado dormido junto al gato. Ahora Ă©ramos dos indigentes bajo la luna.
Harto de escribir historias, decidà vivir una de ellas. Tomé un saco y allà metà algo de ropa, una såbana y una botella de dos litros de agua. No pensé ni siquiera cambiar de ropa. Abrà la puerta y salà a recorrer las calles, sin llaves, sin celular y sin identificación alguna.
Un poderoso aire de libertad se apoderĂł de mĂ. CaminĂ© tantas horas que no me percatĂ© del tiempo y ya empezaba a oscurecer. SeguĂ de frente y justo allĂ, cerca de un bote de basura, me encontrĂ© a un indigente que apilaba unas cuantas cajas de cartĂłn «quizĂĄ para improvisar una confortable cama».
Sentà buena vibra y me acerqué a él.
â Hola amigo, Âżpuedo pasar la noche junto a usted?
Con cierta duda, ese hombre de unos cuarenta años y con acento claramente español, me respondió amablemente,
â SĂ, claro. Ăchese por aquĂ.
DespuĂ©s de un par de horas conversando, compartiendo lo que cada uno de nosotros podĂa aportar. En mi caso, el agua que llevaba en mi saco; y Ă©l, unos panes que el encargado de la panaderĂa de enfrente le habĂa regalado hace un par de dĂas.
Ambos, con la panza llena, bajo una luna llena. EsperĂĄbamos que esa noche no lloviese. No pusimos a contar cada quien su historia. Le escuchĂ© atentamente cada una de sus aventuras. Ăl era un aventurero español que en su Ășltimo viaje habĂa perdido el dedo anular de la mano derecha donde llevaba puesta la alianza de matrimonio. Un par de delincuentes le cortaron el dedo con una cizalla para desprenderle la prenda de oro. Desde entonces, ha vagado por las calles en busca de su amadaâŠ
Esta es Agatha, mi fiel compañera. Se acercó una noche a mà en busca de cariño, cobijo y unas migas de pan. Desde entonces, me sigue a todos lados. Me protege de cualquier maligno roedor. Le llamé Agatha, porque asà se llamaba mi esposa.
Era mi turno. Por lo silencioso y la soledad de la calle, los recuerdos de mi pasado me abatieron. Le comentĂ© que me habĂa cansado de escribir historias, de creer en la gente; quizĂĄ de la comodidad que me brindaba la tecnologĂa. Historias al viento para amigos virtuales. Historias digitales, inmortalizadas en internet.
Mi nuevo amigo, parecĂa no entender un ĂĄpice de lo que le decĂa. Un ronquido de sueño profundo me alertĂł que se habĂa quedado dormido junto al gato. Ahora Ă©ramos dos indigentes bajo la luna.
Ven y participa que aĂșn estĂĄs a tiempo CuĂ©ntame una historia
Campaña activa contra el uso de la IA en Hive.
CRĂDITOS:
ImĂĄgenes: I.â @lanzjoseg, II.â @galenkp, III.â @amigoponc
TĂtulos: CoolText
đ****đ****đ****đ****đ****đ****đ****đ****đ****đ
Dedicado a todos aquellos que contribuyen, dĂa a dĂa, a hacer de nuestro planeta, un mundo mejor.
Tired of writing stories, I decided to live one of them. I took a sack and put some clothes, a sheet and a two-litre bottle of water in it. I didn't even think about changing clothes. Furthermore, I opened the door and went out to walk the streets, without keys, without a mobile phone and without any identification.
A powerful air of freedom came over me. I walked for so many hours that I didn't notice the time, and it was already getting dark. I continued straight ahead and right there, near a bin, I found a homeless man stacking a few cardboard boxes âmaybe to improvise a comfortable bedâ.
Likewise, I felt a good vibe and approached him.
â Hello friend, can I spend the night with you?
With some hesitation, the man in his forties, with a distinctly Spanish accent, answered me kindly,
â Yes, of course. Just lie down over here.
After a couple of hours chatting, sharing what each of us could bring to the table. In my case, the water I was carrying in my sack; and he, some bread that the manager of the bakery across the street had given him a couple of days ago.
Both of us, with full bellies, under a full moon. We hoped it wouldn't rain that night. We didn't start telling each other's stories. I listened attentively to each of his adventures. He was a Spanish adventurer who on his last trip had lost the ring finger of his right hand where he wore his wedding ring. A couple of criminals cut off his finger with a pair of shears to remove the gold piece. Since then, he has wandered the streets in search of his beloved...
This is Agatha, my faithful companion. She came to me one night in search of love, shelter, and some breadcrumbs. Since then, she has followed me everywhere. She protects me from any evil rodent. I called her Agatha, because that was my wife's name.
It was my turn. In the silence and loneliness of the street, memories of my past brought me down. I told her that I had grown tired of writing stories, of believing in people; perhaps of the comfort that technology gave me. Stories in the wind for virtual friends. Digital stories, immortalised on the internet.
My new friend didn't seem to understand a word I was saying. A deep sleepy snore alerted me that he had fallen asleep next to the cat. We were now two paupers under the moon.
Come and participate because you still have, time Tell me a story
Active campaign against the use of AI in Hive.
CREDITS:
Image: I.â @sunscape, II.â @georgia11, III.â @amigopon
Titles: CoolText
Translation Assistant; DeepL Pro
đ****đ****đ****đ****đ****đ****đ****đ****đ****đ
Dedicated to all those poets who contribute, day by day, to make our planet a better world.
Ven y participa que aĂșn estĂĄs a tiempo CuĂ©ntame una historia
Campaña activa contra el uso de la IA en Hive.
CRĂDITOS:
ImĂĄgenes: I.â @lanzjoseg, II.â @galenkp, III.â @amigoponc
TĂtulos: CoolText
Dedicado a todos aquellos que contribuyen, dĂa a dĂa, a hacer de nuestro planeta, un mundo mejor.
Tired of writing stories, I decided to live one of them. I took a sack and put some clothes, a sheet and a two-litre bottle of water in it. I didn't even think about changing clothes. Furthermore, I opened the door and went out to walk the streets, without keys, without a mobile phone and without any identification.
A powerful air of freedom came over me. I walked for so many hours that I didn't notice the time, and it was already getting dark. I continued straight ahead and right there, near a bin, I found a homeless man stacking a few cardboard boxes âmaybe to improvise a comfortable bedâ.
Likewise, I felt a good vibe and approached him.
â Hello friend, can I spend the night with you?
With some hesitation, the man in his forties, with a distinctly Spanish accent, answered me kindly,
â Yes, of course. Just lie down over here.
After a couple of hours chatting, sharing what each of us could bring to the table. In my case, the water I was carrying in my sack; and he, some bread that the manager of the bakery across the street had given him a couple of days ago.
Both of us, with full bellies, under a full moon. We hoped it wouldn't rain that night. We didn't start telling each other's stories. I listened attentively to each of his adventures. He was a Spanish adventurer who on his last trip had lost the ring finger of his right hand where he wore his wedding ring. A couple of criminals cut off his finger with a pair of shears to remove the gold piece. Since then, he has wandered the streets in search of his beloved...
This is Agatha, my faithful companion. She came to me one night in search of love, shelter, and some breadcrumbs. Since then, she has followed me everywhere. She protects me from any evil rodent. I called her Agatha, because that was my wife's name.
It was my turn. In the silence and loneliness of the street, memories of my past brought me down. I told her that I had grown tired of writing stories, of believing in people; perhaps of the comfort that technology gave me. Stories in the wind for virtual friends. Digital stories, immortalised on the internet.
My new friend didn't seem to understand a word I was saying. A deep sleepy snore alerted me that he had fallen asleep next to the cat. We were now two paupers under the moon.
Come and participate because you still have, time Tell me a story
Active campaign against the use of AI in Hive.
CREDITS:
Image: I.â @sunscape, II.â @georgia11, III.â @amigopon
Titles: CoolText
Translation Assistant; DeepL Pro
đ****đ****đ****đ****đ****đ****đ****đ****đ****đ
Dedicated to all those poets who contribute, day by day, to make our planet a better world.
Dedicado a todos aquellos que contribuyen, dĂa a dĂa, a hacer de nuestro planeta, un mundo mejor.
Tired of writing stories, I decided to live one of them. I took a sack and put some clothes, a sheet and a two-litre bottle of water in it. I didn't even think about changing clothes. Furthermore, I opened the door and went out to walk the streets, without keys, without a mobile phone and without any identification.
A powerful air of freedom came over me. I walked for so many hours that I didn't notice the time, and it was already getting dark. I continued straight ahead and right there, near a bin, I found a homeless man stacking a few cardboard boxes âmaybe to improvise a comfortable bedâ.
Likewise, I felt a good vibe and approached him.
â Hello friend, can I spend the night with you?
With some hesitation, the man in his forties, with a distinctly Spanish accent, answered me kindly,
â Yes, of course. Just lie down over here.
After a couple of hours chatting, sharing what each of us could bring to the table. In my case, the water I was carrying in my sack; and he, some bread that the manager of the bakery across the street had given him a couple of days ago.
Both of us, with full bellies, under a full moon. We hoped it wouldn't rain that night. We didn't start telling each other's stories. I listened attentively to each of his adventures. He was a Spanish adventurer who on his last trip had lost the ring finger of his right hand where he wore his wedding ring. A couple of criminals cut off his finger with a pair of shears to remove the gold piece. Since then, he has wandered the streets in search of his beloved...
This is Agatha, my faithful companion. She came to me one night in search of love, shelter, and some breadcrumbs. Since then, she has followed me everywhere. She protects me from any evil rodent. I called her Agatha, because that was my wife's name.
It was my turn. In the silence and loneliness of the street, memories of my past brought me down. I told her that I had grown tired of writing stories, of believing in people; perhaps of the comfort that technology gave me. Stories in the wind for virtual friends. Digital stories, immortalised on the internet.
My new friend didn't seem to understand a word I was saying. A deep sleepy snore alerted me that he had fallen asleep next to the cat. We were now two paupers under the moon.
Come and participate because you still have, time Tell me a story
Active campaign against the use of AI in Hive.
CREDITS:
Image: I.â @sunscape, II.â @georgia11, III.â @amigopon
Titles: CoolText
Translation Assistant; DeepL Pro
đ****đ****đ****đ****đ****đ****đ****đ****đ****đ
Dedicated to all those poets who contribute, day by day, to make our planet a better world.
Come and participate because you still have, time Tell me a story
Active campaign against the use of AI in Hive.
CREDITS:
Image: I.â @sunscape, II.â @georgia11, III.â @amigopon
Titles: CoolText
Translation Assistant; DeepL Pro
Dedicated to all those poets who contribute, day by day, to make our planet a better world.
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