Challenge: Los 5 Posts que más me gustaron. (Día # 4)/The 5 posts that I most liked. (Day # 4) | Cassandra le está gritando a nuestra era/Cassandra is screaming at us

He sido nominado por mi amigo @JoseGilberto a participar de este reto que combina eficazmente lo emotivo con lo objetivo, ya que nos invita a revisar en los recuerdos de la trayectoria en esta plataforma pero también a ser lo suficientemente precisos para seleccionar las publicaciones más valiosas por alguna razón importante. El RETO hay que agradecerlo a @Matuca, pues es una buena idea para darle nuevo aire a creaciones que han quedado muy lejos en esa línea de tiempo y que ya no nos deja verlos, sobre todo a los amigos nuevos.

Este día la publicación combina las versiones en español y en inglés de una narración que tiene bastante importancia para mí pues combina los ambientes mitológico con el contexto contemporáneo en una búsqueda estilística que es de mis exploraciones favoritas como lector y también como creador. La pieza se llama "Cassandra le está gritando a nuestra era". Espero que la pieza se encuentre con nuevos lectores en sus dos versiones.

En esta ocasión quiero invitar a participar de este Reto a una amiga de San Petersburgo en Rusia. Ella tiene una maravillosa mirada sobre su ciudad y siempre comparte maravillosos recorridos que terminan no sólo enseñando muchas cosas sobre la Historia de sus ciudad sino que también del gran cariño que se siente para con su hogar, gente y tradiciones. Ella es @MadlenFox Esperando que acepte esta invitación le dejo por aquí un fuerte abrazo.

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I've been nominated by my friend @JoseGilberto to participate in this challenge that effectively combines the emotional with the objective, as it invites us to review the memories and trajectory in this platform but also to be precise enough to select the most valuable publications for some important reason. The CHALLENGE is due to @Matuca, it is a good idea to give new air to creations that are already very far in the timeline and no longer visible, especially to new friends.

This day the publication combines the Spanish and English versions of a narrative that is quite important to me because it combines the mythological environments with the contemporary context in a stylistic practice that is one of my favorite explorations as a reader and also as a creator. The piece is called "Cassandra is screaming at us". I hope the piece meets new readers in its two versions.

On this occasion I want to invite a friend from St. Petersburg in Russia to participate in this Challenge. She has a wonderful view of her city and always shares wonderful journeys that share not only lots of information about the History of her city but also the great affection she feels for her home, people and traditions. She is @MadlenFox. Waiting for she to accept this invitation I leave here a big hug to her.

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Cassandra is screaming at us
Cassandra le está gritando a nuestra era

English version

I was hurry, going around along the sidewalk of one of the main avenues of the big city, the flow was not too dense so the cars were circulating at a very good speed. I was thinking about Cassandra, I wanted to see her in the eyes, I wasn't feeling well. Someone told me that he have seen her recently, walking around a street corner, talking to the drivers that continue their way after crossing two words with her. I was also told that she was seen in her house, drugged, with petrified black fingers product of the ashes of her crack pipe; skinny, very skinny. She had been expelled from the small family kingdom for her tendency for criticism, for her great contempt for lying and deciduous ideals, for her love for life. She had the audacity to despise the God who had fallen in love with her since she was a child through the illusion of the father to make her a nun. I've been thinking that now she clings to her slow agony to reaffirm that love, to pursue with her crazy cries the conscience of her Punisher until her last day.

I had not seen her for days, so I had a bad feeling. The last time she was peaceful, we only smoked a couple of marijuana cigarettes and remained very calm. She didn't show that anxiety that shakes her when crack's effect begins to be needed. I remember that she didn't tell me any of her strange stories about that "horse pregnant with men armed to the teeth", those who would cause the destruction of humanity. It was very strange that on that day she didn't tell anything because the day before she had been screaming to the good ladies in the supermarket that the world is coming to an end. When someone came to stop her she began to scream that a man had stolen her, that no one dared to punish him. One lady felt pity and wanted to help and she immediately shout out that the wife of the man who stole her wanted to kill her. Then she threw herself to the floor and writhed as she asked everyone to flee, that she was seeing them dead at that moment, embraced by the fire, melting slowly, she swore by the god who had execrated her by spitting on her mouth that never gets tired to exclaim its strange warnings. Two supermarket guards managed to hold her and throw her out into the street.

I met her some time ago in these streets. She started to follow me. I was afraid that she would be a prostitute and had the intention to offer or maybe to steal something from me. I heard that she told me not to be afraid, that she only wanted to see my eyes, even when I was far away. I turned to face her, trying not to get too close and I asked why. "Here I am standing"; she said. "I just want you to look into my eyes". I didn't quite understand what was happening to me at that moment but my eyes noticed something certainly strange. I turned around thinking that someone else could be with her, talking. "Look at me", she said but I was already seeing and the words didn't come from her, at least not from her mouth and breath. I listened from within and all my attention was placed on her voice. "You are not going to die for some reason that I ignore. You will survive the huge bloodbath that is about to start." Even at this moment without even moving his lips she kept telling me. "I can see you going through the fire of the bombs that are about to explode, your flesh burns and is generated again in constant circles that are going to be counted for centuries. But you won't notice it". The only thing I heard from his lips that day was indeed "May you give me a cigar?"

I was looking forward to find her because our meetings had already become a habit. Never again told me that I would be immortal or something like that, but she kept telling me many strange stories of the wars that she lived and those which were to come. I never believed anything because she is really young even I don't get how could happened so many dark stories to her. I've been told that she has been assaulting the couples in the parks when she look that they love each other, "save yourself", shout at them, "make love and not war", and everyone laughs at her. I see a relative of her who walks down the sidewalk across the street and his turning the corner when I shout for him to come. "Cassandra is dead, she was killed by a guy's wife who said her husband desired her. The poor girl is already silent, she is no longer shouting her bullshit". He tells me in a serious manner and then he accelerates and gets lost by turning the corner. "Cassandra is no longer there," I tell myself as a headache breaks out.

I keep walking in the street with its fluid traffic, only my heart seems to be sad by the news of the death of whom I called "my sister". Everything seems quiet but suddenly the alarms start to sound. The traffic slowly stops leading the drivers start to get confused revolving into their cars. Two minutes pass without any earthquake or something like that happening and then a roar begins. We all started to see the weapons falling from the sky, there is nowhere to run, the warning came too late. At the first light, I remember with increasing clarity Cassandra's words, "they will all die by Fire", and when she once told me, "you will go through Time".

Now that everything around me is white I understand that I'm in that Time which Cassandra told me about and I don't know how long I can stand.

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Versión en español

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