The Girl on the Swing | Reading between the lines! | [es-en]
 |
|---|
"La niña de columpio"
shortstory
CONTEST: Reading between the lines! by @soulfuldreamer
Tuve una niñez fabulosa, y a eso contribuyó el parque infantil que quedaba a una cuadra de mi casa. Al cual, mis padres, desde muy pequeña, asumieron la costumbre de llevarme prácticamente todas las tardes, (o al menos eso es lo que tengo grabado en mis recuerdos).
Fue así como el jugar en la caja de arena, los toboganes, las rondas hasta marearme fueron haciéndose parte del disfrutar mi niñez. Y a medida que iba creciendo me permitían subir a juegos más emocionantes, mi meta desde que tuve conciencia fue subirme solita a los columpios para niños mayores. Algo que logré a mis seis años.
No puedo explicar su atracción, pero el metálico sonido de las cadenas en su ir y venir, así como el mecer de mi cuerpo a velocidades cada vez mayores, me transportaba a mundos de fantástica ensoñación, donde podía hacer lo que quisiera y ser quien yo quisiera.
Había un columpio en especial, el ultimo del lado izquierdo que daba hacia los árboles, hubo días en que lograba rozar con mis pies sus ramas más altas, ese columpio se convirtió en mi preferido, y hubo días en que lloraba si no podía subirme por estar otro niño usándolo.
Desde fuera, un observador imparcial me describiría en esos momentos de gran disfrute como si ...una niña con dos colas de caballo y un vestido escarlata sentada en un columpio, se hace una con el suave crujido de las cadenas al ritmo de su silencio contemplativo..., lo que ese observador no podría comprender era el estado de trance interno en el cual me iba perdiendo gracias al cadencioso mantra del crujir metálico del columpio al impulsarme.
Papá y mamá empezaron a mostrarse molestos y luego preocupados, porque adquirí la costumbre de solo usar ese único columpio cuando iba el parque, del cual me costaba cada vez más y más irme. Recuerdo mis berrinches las últimas veces que papá tuvo que usar su fuerza para abrir mis pequeñas manitas y así obligarme a soltar las cadenas que me llamaban a visitar otros mundos.
Tuve una niñez fabulosa, hasta que papá y mamá me llevaron a la casa del especialista en niños. Tuve una niñez fabulosa hasta que una tarde decidí hacer caer al niño que ocupaba mi columpio causándole daños. Tuve una niñez fabulosa, hasta que apareció la palabra “autista” en las conversaciones secretas de mis padres y hermanos. Tuve una niñez fabulosa de la que no quise desprenderme meciéndome rítmicamente en el columpio, visitando mundos de fantasías a medida que aumentaba la velocidad hasta tocar las verdes ramas de los árboles del parque.
English Version
|
|---|
"The Girl on the Swing"
shortstory
CONTEST: Reading between the lines! by @soulfuldreamer
I had a fabulous childhood, and that was largely due to the playground that was just a block away from my house. Since I was very young, my parents made it a habit to take me there almost every afternoon (or at least that's what I have engraved in my memories).
That's how playing in the sandbox, going down the slides, and spinning around until I got dizzy became part of my enjoyment of childhood. And as I grew up, they allowed me to go on more exciting rides. My goal, ever since I became aware, was to ride the swings for older kids all by myself. Something I achieved at the age of six.
I can't explain its attraction, but the metallic sound of the chains swinging back and forth, along with the rocking of my body at increasing speeds, transported me to worlds of fantastic daydreams, where I could do whatever I wanted and be whoever I wanted to be.
There was one swing in particular, the last one on the left side facing the trees. There were days when I managed to brush my feet against its highest branches. That swing became my favorite, and there were days when I cried if I couldn't ride it because another child was using it.
From the outside, an impartial observer would describe me during those moments of great enjoyment as ...a little girl with two ponytails and a scarlet dress sitting on a swing, becoming one with the gentle creaking of the chains in rhythm with her contemplative silence... What that observer couldn't comprehend was the trance-like state I entered, gradually losing myself thanks to the mesmerizing mantra of the metallic creaking of the swing as it propelled me.
Dad and Mom started to become annoyed, and later worried, because I developed the habit of only using that one swing whenever we went to the park, and it became increasingly difficult for me to leave. I remember my tantrums the last few times when Dad had to use his strength to pry open my little hands and force me to let go of the chains that called me to visit other worlds.
I had a fabulous childhood, until Dad and Mom took me to the specialist's house for children. I had a fabulous childhood, until one afternoon when I decided to push the boy who was on my swing, causing him harm. I had a fabulous childhood, until the word "autistic" appeared in the secret conversations of my parents and siblings. I had a fabulous childhood that I didn't want to let go of, swaying rhythmically on the swing, visiting fantasy worlds as the speed increased until I touched the green branches of the park's trees.
Imágenes
- Las imágenes y gif son de mi creación a partir de Promts editados en Ideogram.ai. Dicha aplicación emplea la Inteligencia Artificial, para generar imágenes, a partir de frases y oraciones escritas. Estas son de libre uso.
- The images and gif are my creation from Promts edited in Ideogram.ai. This application uses Artificial Intelligence to generate images from written phrases and sentences. These are free to use.
[1] Ver mi galería en Ideogram.ai: joslud )
 Original production by @joslud -- #wox-joslud |
Beautiful beyond words!
Little did I know when I organized this contest that I would be blessed with such amazing entries. I'm on cloud nine with each contribution.
Yours has touched me in a very different way. I'm literally imagining myself on that swing, aiming to reach the branches of the tree.
Ah, you transported me into my childhood.
Why did this word have to spoil everything? No, that's not fair, but I guess that's for the child who got pushed. But it was your favorite swing. He should have known. You were there every single day... But I guess a time comes when it becomes inevitable to let go!
Thank you so much for your contribution.
I love your images. Honestly more than mine.
https://x.com/josluds/status/1767198915437215816?s=20