Theinkwell writing challenge | Last night

in The Ink Well3 years ago

Greetings, dear readers.
With this text I participate in the Writing Challenge, promoted by the
#theinkwell community.

Participating is very simple: just follow their instructions. On this occasion it is appropriate to write a story of at least 350 words, starting with the guideline Last night.

I hope you like it.


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Last night

Last night, for the first time in weeks, there were no fights among the wandering beggars in the area. The space in the hall next to the soda fountain finally became theirs. He had won it in a game of dice against Miguel, the previous occupant.

When everyone had found their places, he went to the hall very happy. He had promised the shoeshine boy in the plaza that he would take care of his chair from now on if he kept his bag of belongings for him during the day. It was a man's pact.

Since he had been on the streets, he could never sleep a full night. It was impossible. He had to take care of his things and his life. He learned to have a light sleep, to sleep - as they say - with his eyes open. Once asleep, many times he was awakened by people talking while walking in the middle of the street or by barking dogs or car horns, in short, by the noises of the night. He would stay up for a while until he went back to sleep and then, at about dawn, he would have to leave the place before being thrown out.

But last night he was happy because for two years no one had lived in that building since they were going to demolish it and then build a mini-mall. He would sleep at ease because he would feel less noise there and would not have to get up so early in the morning.

Already asleep, a strong smell of blood took him out of his sleep. It was a smell that flooded the space. He got up and looked for him nearby but couldn't find him. He felt the smell very close to his nose, on his tongue. He thought, rather worried: "What is this? Since he saw nothing strange, he calmed down and went back to bed. He calculated that it would be close to one o'clock. In spite of everything he fell into a deep sleep.

The smell came back for the second time. He woke up and, when he opened his eyes, he saw stains on his blanket, his clothes and his hands that were bloody and muddy. He was very frightened, and jumped up. He checked himself but had no injuries, he did not know where the blood came from.

He ran to the fountain in the square and there he washed his hands, cleaned the stains from his clothes and his blanket leaving a strange reddish color in the water. He felt in his mouth the taste of blood that he already knew, so he washed his face and rinsed his mouth. He returned to the hall to end the night.

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When he woke up, there were people watching the water from the fountain. He heard them say that in the cemetery a block away, where he worked during the day, a coffin had been opened and someone had stuck his teeth into the liver of a little girl, buried in the afternoon, who was now lying on her grave.

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A very well narrated story, of successful descriptions, with a surprising ending, amidst the ambiguity of dreamlike atmospheres. Greetings, @alidamaria.

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Your post has been upvoted by @Celfmagazine, an autonomous initiative in favour of quality content on art and culture. Support us with your vote here to maintain and improve our work. Our community is #hive-111516

CELFmagazine

Thanks for your comment, @josemalavem, always so generous. That's the idea I wanted to convey with this story.