Peter (relato corto / short story)
Un saludos a todos, el siguiente relato fue inspirado por el arte digital de @xpilar, los invito a que visiten su blog. La imagen que motivó este relato es la siguiente.
Greetings to all, the following story was inspired by the digital art of @xpilar, I invite you to visit his blog. The picture that motivated this story is the following.
Peter
-Le repito mi historia, soy el capitán Peter Angel del 22do Escuadrón de Combate, estaba en una misión de reconocimiento en el Caribe, volaba un Curtis P-36, me había alejado de mi escuadrón y sobrevolaba un pequeño islote, cuando el cielo empezó destellar sobre mí y comencé a sentir como se cargaba de estática sentí como se me enchinaba la piel. – Peter se enderezo en la silla y tomo un sorbo del vaso de agua que estaba frente a él en la mesa.
-El cielo cambiaba de colores, era como si alguien agitara una gigantesca cortina hecha de luces de colores; purpura, rojo, verde y naranja. Entonces frente a mi apareció una especie de anillo de un intenso resplandor blanco, no tuve tiempo para maniobrar y esquivarlo, pasé a través de él. – Volvió a tomar un sorbo de agua, sus manos temblaban.
-No sé qué demonios era esa maldita cosa, pero cuando entre todo se oscureció de repente y el motor del aeroplano se apagó, todo se apagó, era como si todo el sonido y la luz se hubiesen apagado, entonces fue cuando pasó…,- Peter apoyo sus codos sobre la mesa y cubrió su rostro con las manos
–A todo mi alrededor aparecieron cientos de aviones como el mío, eran yo, cientos de copias mías era como estar en una de esas salas de espejos, me podía ver en todos ellos, entonces fue cuando me di cuenta de que no estaba en el avión, estaba ahí de pie, en no sé dónde viéndome a mí mismo en el avión por todo mi alrededor… – Peter sudaba copiosamente y su voz se apagaba, tomo aliento – Entonces todo se apagó…, y desperté aquí, la enfermera me dijo que me habían encontrado en un campo con hipotermia. Por favor dígame doctor donde estoy, nadie me lo ha querido decir.
Después de sedar a Peter y dejarlo en su habitación, el doctor Robertson se retiró a su oficina, El doctor Harris lo estaba esperando en ella, había recibido un llamado de su parte para comentar el caso, después de haberlo reportado.
-El paciente se identifica como Peter Angel, dice ser piloto – Roberson entrego una carpeta a Harris – Este es su expediente, ¿qué le parece?
Harris abrió la carpeta y reviso los documentos, observo por un momento la fotografía de Peter Angel, se recargo en la silla - ¿en qué condiciones lo encontraron?, no lo veo en el expediente.
-Lo encontró un granjero local, estaba tendido inconsciente en su campo, no sabe cómo llego ahí, vestía un overol de piloto y portaba una chapa de identificación que es coherente con su historia. Según su lo que indica es Peter Angel Nacido en Austin Texas el 23 de mayo de 1910. – Dijo levantando la voz y mostrándose sorprendido.
-Entiendo – dijo fríamente Harris.
-Supongo que debe ser robada o falsa – intuyó Robertson.
-No creo, todo coincide.
-¿Como que todo coincide?, -dijo exaltado – ¿cómo va a coincidir?, ya vio la foto, ese tipo debe tener uno veintitantos, pero según esa chapa debe tener 107 años.
-De eso ya me di cuenta, pero todo coincide, este es el quinto caso de este mes. - dijo Harris inexpresivo
-No entiendo, ¿hay otros como él? – preguntó Robertson asombrado.
-Literalmente, es el quinto Peter Angel que es encontrado en este mes y el ciento veintitrés en lo que va de año, en todo el país. Todos exactamente iguales.
Peter
-I repeat my story, I am Captain Peter Angel of the 22nd Figthter Squadron, I was on a reconnaissance mission in the Caribbean, I was flying a Curtis P-36, I had moved away from my squadron and was flying over a small islet, when the sky began It flashed on me and I began to feel how it was loaded with static. I felt like my skin was getting enchained. - Peter straightened in the chair and took a sip of the glass of water that was in front of him on the table.
-The sky changed colors, it was as if someone was waving a gigantic curtain made of colored lights; purple, red, green and orange. Then in front of me appeared a kind of ring of intense white radiance, I did not have time to maneuver and dodge it, I passed through it. - He took a sip of water again, his hands trembled.
-I do not know what the hell that damn thing was, but when I went in, everything suddenly darkened and the engine of the airplane went out, everything went out, it was as if all the sound and the light had gone out, that's when it happened ... - Peter supported his elbows on the table and covered his face with his hands.
-All around me, hundreds of planes appeared like mine, it was me, hundreds of copies of mine was like being in one of those mirror rooms, I could see myself in all of them, that's when I realized that I was not in the plane, I was standing there, in I do not know where, seeing myself in the plane all around me ... - Peter was sweating profusely and his voice was going out, he took a breath - Then everything went out ..., and I woke up here, the nurse He told me that they had found me in a field with hypothermia. Please tell me doctor where I am, nobody wanted to tell me.
After sedating Peter and leaving him in his room, Dr. Robertson retired to his office, Dr. Harris was waiting for him in it, he had received a call from him to discuss the case, after having reported it.
-The patient identifies himself as Peter Angel, he says he is a pilot - Roberson handed a folder to Harris - This is his file, what do you think?
Harris opened the folder and reviewed the documents, observed for a moment the photograph of Peter Angel, leaned back in the chair - in what conditions did they find it?, I do not see it in the file.
-He was found by a local farmer, he was lying unconscious in his field, he does not know how he got there, he wore a pilot's overalls and wore an identification badge that is consistent with his story. According to what it indicates is Peter Angel, born in Austin Texas on May 23, 1910. - He said raising his voice and showing surprise.
-I understand- Harris said coldly.
-I suppose it must be stolen or false- intuited Robertson.
-I do not think, everything coincides.
-As everything coincides ?, said exalted - how will it match ?, You saw the photo, that guy must have a twenty-something, but according to that plate must be 107 years old.
-From that I realized, but everything coincides, this is the fifth case this month. - Harris said deadpan
-I do not understand, are there others like him? - Robertson asked in amazement.
-Literally, it is the fifth Peter Angel that is found in this month and one hundred and twenty-three so far this year, throughout the country. All exactly the same.
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Hi @amart29
Now they can read your story in Spanish
Re-steemed
Thank you for your support @xpilar, and for the interesting and creative digital art that you share with the community
Thank you so much
Gracias por compartir tu contenido con la comunidad de El Arca (@elarca), el mismo ha sido votado por nuestra iniciativa de curación artística @stellae.
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Gracias por tu apoyo @elarca y @stellae.
great post @amart29
Thanks for your support @momoriso.
This post was shared in the #spanish-curation channel in the Curation Collective Discord community for curators, and upvoted and resteemed by the @c-squared community account after manual review.
Gracias por tu apoyo @c-squared
Gracias por su apoyo @sancho.panza y @cervantes
¡Felicidades! Esta publicación obtuvo upvote y fue compartido por @la-colmena, un proyecto de Curación Manual para la comunidad hispana de Steemit que cuenta con el respaldo de @curie.
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. Me gustó mucho tu relato, saludos desde Uruguay
Gracias @ivanic, un abrazo desde Venezuela
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