Happy day readers, I would like to occasionally upload some other story, as it says with completely random stories, some long and other short.
Stormy mind
In the calendar marked the December 9 for the fleeting year of 2017, the warm atmosphere of the perpetual summer was something natural for the cheerful "Zulia", the sweat on their foreheads, the embarrassment of carrying moisture marks on their clothes and the smell of pork sweaty in those "buses" that carry people but can not in the peak hours, but that morning as quiet as quiet was nothing like it, I think the silence in the environment is just a sign of the roar that looms.
After five o'clock in the morning, most people in my town would be sleeping, quiet from their pillows and I in a sea of nightmares, trapped in a loop that did not feel final, was like being tied to the bed with barely enough strength to breathe, I knew I was awake or a part of me felt it, I tried to move my arm and the fear overflowed my back - I could not move a finger - I knew I had to wake up completely or something terrible would happen to me, the demons of my dreams would come alive and it would be easy prey.
Celestial help
I do not think it's a coincidence that the rain came so hard, my roof trembled as much as the drums of old in times of war, my body felt more and more pain, shadows jumped and ripped my skin, at the same time that a cold friendly healed my wounds I just thought I was going to die and with an air of hope I could move my fingers -someone is helping me-, I thought that the darkness could not completely dominate the earth.
In times of storm from the sky angels could also descend camouflaged in drops of purification, I did not understand why, to me, an ordinary subject had to go through this torment, I knew that a fight was fought in my body, tired and without strength, I did not want to stay alive, the storm came for me or the darkness wanted to fight with the light, they were things that I asked myself, it was a simple terrain for them in which they could measure their strength.
Despair
Someone knocked on my door and each time I felt stronger, I was recovering my senses, I did not want to end up like dust and I could wake up from that agony, terrified smile non stop and I told myself it was just a nightmare and scratching my arm I could note, that half-healed wound. I knew that everything was true, that the rain only fell for me and the battle that nobody will ever know, took place in this room that morning so normal and who knows if it happens again when I have the strength to get up again.
