âÂżTe ha pasado que en un dĂa cualquiera, justo cuando no estĂĄs esperando nada, ocurre algo especial que termina marcĂĄndote por el resto de tu vida?
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âPues aquel era un dĂa normal, comĂșn, como cualquier otro. De esos donde no tengo planificado nada, solo existir. Alrededor de las once de la mañana, leĂa una vieja revista, de esas que salĂan antes, con mucho contenido que dar. Muy adentrado en la lectura, interrumpĂ la idea cuando escuchĂ© que llamaban a la puerta. No esperaba a nadie, y no sabĂa de alguien que tuviera planeado venir.
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VivĂa en compañĂa de mis padres, ây como mi mamĂĄ es costurera, "quizĂĄs un trabajito de confecciĂłn", pensĂ©. Me daba pereza levantarme de la silla, incluso me demorĂ© en salir porque supuse que alguien mĂĄs en la casa atenderĂa. La verdad no era muy sociable y recibir visitas sin avisar me hace sentir incĂłmodo.
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âEse dĂa estĂĄbamos todos en casa. No sĂ© quĂ© distracciĂłn tendrĂan que al parecer no escucharon cuando afuera llamaban a la puerta. Fastidiado, dejĂ© la revista sobre la mesa, me levantĂ© y desganado me puse una camiseta sin mangas mientras me asomaba tras la cortina de la ventana para tener una idea de quiĂ©n podrĂa estar interrumpiendo mi paz.
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âDistinguĂ dos siluetas: una señora, conocida de la familia, y alguien mĂĄs, una figura femenina que por su posiciĂłn se ocultaba tras uno de los pilares del porche y no conseguĂa distinguir. Mientras espiaba tras la cortina, rĂĄpidamente confirmĂ© mi sospecha: la señora traĂa en la mano una pequeña bolsa con ropa.
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âRespirĂ©, caminĂ© hacia la puerta y como en piloto automĂĄtico, ya preveĂa mentalmente lo que sucederĂa: el saludo de protocolo, las debidas muestras de cortesĂa, recibo el encargo, una sonrisa de despedida y adiĂłs. Nada especial.
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AgarrĂ©â el pomo de la puerta, presionĂ© y al abrir reconocĂ a Cristina âla señoraâ un rostro familiar.
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ââÂĄHola, buenos dĂas! âsaludĂł con una sonrisaâ. ÂżEstĂĄ tu mamĂĄ?
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ââSĂ âle respondĂ con calmaâ, ya la llamo.
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ââBueno, era para entregarle esto âdijo deteniĂ©ndome mientras me ofrecĂa el paquete en sus manosâ. Se lo puedes entregar tĂș.
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âMe dispuse a recibirlo, pero hasta ese momento no habĂa conseguido identificar la figura que seguĂa oculta tras la columna decorativa frente a mĂ. Sin esperar mĂĄs, Cristina agregĂł:
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ââY ella es una amiga âseñalando a su acompañante; y dirigiĂ©ndose a ella, continuĂłâ: Ăl es Humberto.
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âNo estaba predispuesto a nada. Solo era conocer a alguien mĂĄs y ya. Pero pocas veces en la vida he pasado por momentos como aquel. De detrĂĄs de la columna saliĂł una joven âque me dio la impresiĂłn de estarse escondiendoâ, de piel blanca, vestĂa un conjunto sencillo pero modesto, ni muy juvenil para resultar provocativo, ni muy señorial para resultar aburrido.
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âCon todo eso, su mirada y su sonrisa fueron lo que me atrapĂł. Todos mis pensamientos que creĂa tener en orden se fueron a la extinciĂłn. No estaba seguro de mĂ, si existĂa o solo era un NPC. Esa mirada, una mirada simple, pero profunda, amable pero cauta, transmitĂa vulnerabilidad, fragilidad, la sentĂ expuesta.
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âPero su sonrisa... Oh, Dios, ÂĄquĂ© sonrisa! No era la tĂpica sonrisa plĂĄstica de otras jĂłvenes de su generaciĂłn en circunstancias como esas. Fue una sonrisa dulce, genuina, tĂmida y cordial, que no sentĂ que transmitĂa coqueterĂa, sino la nobleza de un alma sencilla.
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âY de ese modo quedĂ© absorto, perdido, atrapado en una hermosa confusiĂłn de ideas que me gritaban por dentro que volviera en mĂ. Por entre los barrotillos de la reja extendĂ mi mano para estrechar la suya y concretar el saludo, mientras creĂ escuchar que me decĂa su nombre en un susurro que, por la emociĂłn, no recordĂ© luego.
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âTratĂ© de abrir la reja para recibir el paquete, pero me perdĂ nerviosamente entre las llaves del mazo. Recuerdo que buscaba inĂștilmente insertar cada llave con una torpeza inusual en mi carĂĄcter templado y firme. Ese dĂa, todas las defensas que creĂ suficientes para resguardar mis emociones cayeron a tierra.
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âTras varios vergonzosos intentos de algo tan simple como abrir una reja, por fin logrĂ© dar con la llave correcta, pero mi cabeza solo pensaba en esa sonrisa, esa mirada. TomĂ© el paquete y volvĂ a verla con rapidez furtiva.
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ââElla es nueva por acĂĄ âdijo Cristinaâ. Le pedĂ que me acompañara para que conociera la zona.
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âMi cabeza estallĂł en un torrente incesante de preguntas que debĂ tragarme por la naturaleza del momento: "ÂżVive por acĂĄ? ÂżDĂłnde? ÂżY por cuĂĄnto tiempo? ÂżSe va a quedar o se piensa mudar?"
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La joven âde quien no recordaba su nombre, absortoâ notĂł la intensidad de mi expresiĂłn; lo sĂ© porque evidenciĂł signos de nerviosismo, y sutilmente disimulĂł distraerse, arrebatĂĄndome de golpe el placer que me daba ver directo a sus ojos.
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Cristina se despidiĂł y, cumplidos los formalismos, mientras se alejaban poco a poco, caĂ en la cuenta del desorden rĂtmico en mi pulso, la respiraciĂłn acelerada y las manos sudorosas por aquel golpe de ansiedad. Inmediatamente pensĂ©:
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"Y esa princesa tan bella... Âżde dĂłnde saliĂł?"
InmĂłvil, en el mismo sitio donde quedĂ© despuĂ©s de cerrar la reja, tuve que aceptar que algo habĂa cambiado dentro de mĂ, y comencĂ© a tramar quĂ© hacer para que aquellos ojos causantes de tal revolcadero en mi pecho, coincidieran conmigo otra vez y descubrir quĂ© poder escondĂan.
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âNunca olvido ese instante. Un momento Ășnico y especial que marcarĂa el resto de mi vida de maneras que jamĂĄs vi venir.
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âBasado en un hecho real. Los eventos aquĂ descritos sucedieron el 04 de septiembre de 2023. Este post es la primera parte de una serie de varios episodios que se publicarĂĄn prĂłximamente.
âRelato en serie Ăntegramente elaborado y dedicado para Annie RodrĂguez/ Usuario en Hive:
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Have you ever had one of those days when, just when youâre not expecting anything, something special happens that ends up shaping the rest of your life?
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âWell, that was a normal, ordinary day, just like any other. One of those days when I havenât planned anything, just existing. Around eleven in the morning, I was reading an old magazine, one of those from back in the day, packed with content. Deep in my reading, I was interrupted when I heard a knock at the door. I wasnât expecting anyone, and I didnât know of anyone whoâd planned to come.
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I lived with my parents, and as my mum is a seamstress, "perhaps a little sewing job", I thought. I couldnât be bothered to get up from my chair; I even delayed going to the door because I assumed someone else in the house would answer it. To be honest, I wasnât very sociable, and receiving unannounced visitors makes me feel uncomfortable.
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âThat day we were all at home. I donât know what they were so engrossed in, but apparently they didnât hear the doorbell ringing. Annoyed, I put the magazine down on the table, got up and, half-heartedly, put on a sleeveless T-shirt whilst peeking through the window curtain to get an idea of who might be disturbing my peace.
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âI made out two figures: a lady, an acquaintance of the family, and someone else, a female figure who, due to her position, was hidden behind one of the porch pillars and whom I couldnât quite make out. As I peered through the curtain, I quickly confirmed my suspicion: the lady was carrying a small bag of clothes.
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I took a breath, walked towards the door and, as if on autopilot, I could already picture in my mind what would happen: the customary greeting, the appropriate courtesies, Iâd take the parcel, a parting smile and goodbye. Nothing out of the ordinary.
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I grabbed the door handle, turned it and, as I opened the door, I recognised Cristina â the lady â a familiar face.
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âââHello, good morning!â she greeted me with a smile. âIs your mum in?â
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âââYesâ I replied calmly, âIâll call her.â
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âââWell, I was here to give her thisâ she said, stopping me as she held out the parcel in her hands. âYou can give it to her.â
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âI went to take it, but until that moment I hadnât managed to make out the figure still hidden behind the decorative column in front of me. Without waiting any longer, Cristina added:
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ââAnd this is a friend of hers âpointing to her companion; and turning to her, she continuedâ: This is Humberto.
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âI wasnât expecting anything. It was just a matter of meeting someone else, that was all. But rarely in my life have I experienced moments like that one. From behind the column emerged a young woman â who gave me the impression she had been hiding â with fair skin, dressed in a simple yet modest outfit, neither too youthful to be provocative, nor too ladylike to be boring.
Despite all that, it was her gaze and her smile that captivated me. All the thoughts I thought I had in order vanished into thin air. I wasnât sure of myselfâwhether I existed or was just an NPC. That gaze, a simple yet profound look, kind yet cautious, conveyed vulnerability and fragility; I felt exposed.
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âBut her smile⊠Oh, God, what a smile! It wasnât the typical plastic smile of other young women of her generation in such circumstances. It was a sweet, genuine, shy and warm smile, which I didnât feel conveyed flirtation, but rather the nobility of a simple soul.
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âAnd so I was absorbed, lost, caught up in a beautiful confusion of thoughts screaming inside me to come to my senses. Through the bars of the gate I reached out my hand to take hers and seal the greeting, whilst I thought I heard her whisper her name to meâa whisper I, in my excitement, could not recall afterwards.
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âI tried to open the gate to receive the parcel, but I fumbled nervously through the keys on my ring. I remember trying in vain to insert each key with a clumsiness unusual for my usually calm and steady nature. That day, all the defences I thought were enough to shield my emotions crumbled to the ground.
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âAfter several embarrassing attempts at something as simple as opening a gate, I finally managed to find the right key, but my mind was only on that smile, that look. I took the bundle and glanced at her again with a furtive quickness.
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ââSheâs new around here,â said Cristina. âI asked her to come with me so she could get to know the area.â
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âMy head exploded with a ceaseless torrent of questions that I had to swallow given the nature of the moment: âDoes she live around here? Where? And for how long? Is she staying or does she plan to move?"_
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The young woman â whose name I couldnât recall, so absorbed was I â noticed the intensity of my expression; I know this because she showed signs of nervousness and subtly pretended to be distracted, suddenly robbing me of the pleasure I took in looking straight into her eyes.
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Cristina said her goodbyes and, once the formalities were over, as they gradually walked away, I became aware of the irregular rhythm of my pulse, my rapid breathing and my sweaty palms caused by that sudden surge of anxiety. I immediately thought:
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"And that beautiful princess... where did she come from?"
Motionless, in the very spot where I had stood after closing the gate, I had to accept that something had changed within me, and I began to plot what to do so that those eyes, which had caused such a turmoil in my chest, might meet mine again and I might discover what power they held.
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âI will never forget that moment. A unique and special moment that would shape the rest of my life in ways I never saw coming.
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âBased on a true story. The events described here took place on 4 September 2023. This post is the first part of a series of several episodes to be published shortly.
A serialised story written entirely for and dedicated to Annie RodrĂguez / Hive user:
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Portada: âFotografĂa de DariuszSankowski en Pixabay
âEdiciĂłn de Portada: Canva
Banners: EdiciĂłn en Inshot y Canva
FotografĂa del banner es mĂa
Divisores de texto:
Traducción al Inglés: DeepL App
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âFront Page: Photo by DariuszSankowski on Pixabay
âFront Page design: Canva
Banners: Edited in Inshot and Canva
The banner photo is mine
Text dividers:
English translation: DeepL App