Stories and myths

Después de mi viaje a una zona remota de Arkansas -el cual nunca ocurrió- seguí hacia Mississipi, donde descubrí que la historia aún no terminaba. Por más que la intenté bloquear de mi mente, la historia seguía apareciendo recurrentemente en mi mente.

Stories and myths

While I was strolling through the forest, our mighty forest, I began to think about the eternity we were expected to be there. I might been too lost on my thoughts because I never realized Fred coming to me. He sat besides me and told me it was cold enough to freeze both of us. Remember we're ghosts, we're really cold, you see. I've never fully understand Fred. He's so serious and constrained. Never showing a piece of happy feeling or showing any kind of romantic vulnerability. But, after all this years, I've got used to it. I'm certainly cold, physically (well, you know, physical in this case it's not literal), but I'm not cold emotionally. Fred is. He's always worried about eternal worries I'm not capable to understand.

As Fred arrived, I sense it was time for some kind of story. Just to help time pass sufficiently fast for a couple of ghosts. Fast isn't a constant when you're damned for eternity. "Well, Fred. Now you're here, let's just talk about something." Fred looked at me with that kind of glance I disliked. "Talk about what, Frank?"

"I dunno. Just talk. For passing time. Why don't you tell me about that kind of stories you know. The ones you always speak of when we enroute to the road on...", I couldn't complete the idea.

"Damn you, Frank! You're always complicating things. I'm not for stories." Fred answered severily. I was too concerned with making time pass easier, that I forgot that Fred wasn't for stories because he heard some funny noises earlier. I didn't put attention to that . In a forest you always hear something new or strange. But let us realize that Fred's nature says: Worry about anything, it maybe something to worry about. What a philosophy! Fred's natural philosophy! And I, well, just an optimistic free-minded guy. No complications for Frank.

Maybe all was because Fred saw a shadow. We ghosts don't have shadows. I've got a story: People use to say this forest is enchanted. They say two shadows travel through the forest keeping their heavy secrets with great sorrow. That was a freaky story. I imagine is just a myth. Not The Myth, just only a kind of legend that lacked of any certainty. Of course, the lack of certainty it needs to be asumed as more of a myth than a legend. I tooked Fred's hand and put it on my chest, I said: "Don't."

"Oh yes, I do. I'm ashamed of this. I'm ashamed of our myth..." Frank said while we turned to see the stars on the dark sky.

Attachments

En este bendito (¿o será maldito?) día, viernes 13, la necesidad de aportar la siguiente historia resulta imperiosa. La susodicha historia fue creada por un servidor mientras realizaba un viaje - el cual nunca ocurrió - a una remota zona del estado de Arkansas, EUA.

Attachments

While I was expecting Fred to arrive with some good news, my heart started to beat quite hard. The reason? It's time I don't have a good idea about it. But I was expecting Fred, with a hard-beating nervous heart. Oh yeah! I was nervous. That was the reason... Never mind. Of course, he came too late, not sufficiently to make me lose the nerve.

"Hi, Frank!", he said. To which thing I was looking? I remember a light in the road and a car parked in the demarcation. Fred was concerned about something. Let's see what's the problem with dear Fred. "I saw a car in the way, while I was coming." I turned to him and nodded. "I was just watching it. And what's the uncommon situation in that?"

Fred was that kind of person that always has something to worry about. It was kind of difficult to live with him; I being an optimistic guy, he worrying me about his particular worries.

"It's a couple, Frank! And they're doing... Well, you know, they're doing the stuff the couples do."

"Humans. So predictable. Always with stupid bonds. They're holding so hard to many material things, the most material of all is other people. Then, by the way, love is such a stupid thing, 'cause you're holding to a person that some time in some way will disappear in your life. You, or the other person, that doesn't matter after all, will leave. You'll die or you'll leave, get bored and leave. Then, why do humans have that stupid necessity to hold to temporal things? Love: such a matter, such a problem."

When I looked back, the car was gone. Maybe the couple have finished whatever they were doing. Bored and tired, Fred said good-bye, and closed the conversation like this: "I just don't know. It doesn't matter. That kind of things are beyond my scope; why bother with holding too hard to things? I'm just a ghost. I don't know about attachments, clinging hard to things..."

I stared a long time to his ghostly figure entering the forest. My thoughts were anxious, my internal laugh was sarcastic: "Maybe life's the most material thing, my dear Fred..."