Daniel Aristi
TORCIDA / ASKEW
Torcida
Se me puso ella fractal esta mañana, fractal, la cara toda triángulos & rombos & retorcida que se rompía. Pero ya que los mansos vamos a heredar la tierra quemada, esquivé sus reproches, grandes e infinitos como trenes carboneros…y yo, imbécil de mí, voy y me monto en uno, a lo errabundo, por discutir, porque son tan jodidamente largos y lentos, y me muero alto y claro en dos segundos. Ya incluso la cocina se sentía diferente, más lenta, como si estuviera bajo el agua. Y entonces miro al reloj y son las seis. La tía Rosa solía decir que una pareja es igualita que las dos manecillas de un reloj: por siempre separándose y rejuntándose otra vez, así que al mediodía hay amor lleno y a las seis, que es como una espada, sólo queda el odio.
◊
Askew
She went fractal on me this morning, fractal, her face all triangles & rhombi & contorted brittle. But since we the meek shall inherit the scorched earth, I rope-a-doped her reproaches, big and infinite like coal trains…and then, stupid, I go and fetch a hobo-ride in one of them, for argument’s sake, because they’re so freakin’ long and slow, and I die out aloud in two seconds. Even the kitchen felt different by then, slower, as if somewhat underwater. Then, I look at the clock, and it’s six. Auntie Rosa used to say that a couple is just like the two hands of a clock: forever falling apart and then coming together again, so at midday there is full love and at six, which is like a sword, there’s only the odium.
Daniel Aristi studied French literature as an undergrad at the French Lycée of San Sebastian. A native of Spain, he now lives and writes in Switzerland with his wife and two children. His work has been published in many journals, including Meat for Tea, and is forthcoming in the Los Angeles Review and Fiction Southeast, among others. His story “Tempus Fugit” from SAND was listed among The Best Small Fictions. He can be contacted at [email protected]
Read more from Cleaver Magazine’s Issue #14.
