«Hoy no quiero jugar!» dice, apenas la mano cálida le toca los piececitos.
«Pero, si esta es la hora de nuestro juego preferido» replica la voz, siempre en susurros para que nadie más la escuche.
Cuando el rostro del monstruo se acerca y la luna por fin le dibuja sus facciones, Claudio aprieta los ojos y las lágrimas brotan en silencio.
Claudio no sabe rezar, no sabe de milagros, pero, aun así, espera que el monstruo del perchero lo salve; quiere que las bestias nocturnas que dibuja la luna en su cuarto, lo rescaten. ¡No sucede! La luna solamente hace visible a los monstruos, y es por eso que él la odia…
«Hoy no quiero jugar…» gimotea en voz baja. «¡Por favor mamá… hoy no quiero jugar...»
English Version
(Image by wirestock on Freepik)
Claudio hates the moon /(Microstory)
Claudio hates the moon. As its light rises over the dark satin of the sky and the shadows creep and spread across his room, Claudio feels his fear grow. But he is not afraid of the grotesque shapes painted by the shadow of the naked orange trees as they enter through the window! Nor is he terrified of the monstrous shape reflected by the silhouette of the coat rack on the wallpaper in his room; no. Claudio is not afraid of the monstrous shape reflected by the silhouette of the coat rack on the wallpaper in his room. Claudio fears the graceful form that arrives on tiptoe and slips behind his bedroom door without making grotesque noises. When that happens, his eyes fill with tears and he gathers his legs under the sheets; he pulls back as far as he can, like a small centipede, and trembles, because he recognizes the monster's perfume even in the half-light.
«I don't want to play today!» she says, as soon as the warm hand touches her little feet.
«But, if this is the time for our favorite game» replies the voice, always in whispers so that no one else hears it.
When the monster's face approaches and the moon finally draws its features, Claudio squeezes his eyes and tears flow silently.
Claudio doesn't know how to pray, he doesn't know about miracles, but, even so, he hopes that the monster in the coat rack will save him; he wants the nocturnal beasts that the moon draws in his room to rescue him. It doesn't happen! The moon only makes the monsters visible, and that's why he hates it...
«I don't want to play today...» he whines softly. «Please mom... I don't want to play today...»