sábado, febrero 28, 2009

Van Helsing

Not to be noticed, that’s the motto in Transylvania, the Count’s eternal sleep must not be disturbed, nobody knows for sure whether he’s dead or alive. But everyone knows about stonings and impalements.
In the town’s inn, a stranger walks inside the gloomy hall, people whisper and take furtive glances at that man in a jacket and a tie carrying a briefcase, ¿what is he carrying there? they mutter.
A girl whose blue eyes gleam in the darkness of the hall takes his command. After soup and a vine that has made him giddy, she takes him to a room and fiercely makes love to him. Van Helsing has never had it so good. He feels his body rested from his weariness, he feels weightless, as if floating, restored from the brutish two week’s journey.
At dawn his briefcase has disappeared and he notices his image is not returned by the mirror.
Raul Lilloy Traducido por Luisa González de Castejón

1 comentario:

Anónimo dijo...

Hola Raúl Lilloy

Soy Christian Binderfeld, director periodístico de la revista Analecta Literaria de Argentina, donde nos has dejado 4 comentarios que recién hoy publiqué y te respondí por las razones que te explico en la misma respuesta a tus comentarios. Gracias por visitarnos y por participar. Te dejo un abrazo desde Buenos Aires, Argentina.