He/it dilutes. I wrote water because there is a mystery that I don't reach to solve. Every dream of the night with water. I see ports of sea, rivers, reservoirs, oceans, lakes, channels, swamp... I am, in my dreams, to fish the big dark fish who slips under the transparent waters, interpret the act therefore to fish like symbol to be caught in some type of the trap. Hung. I put hung for example to tobacco, to coffee, to a woman... What failures in the dream are that the fisher is me, the enganchador that not the hooked, when in the raw reality doesn't have fisher more of fish that me. Fish in several, like a vulgar trout (although it is true that for the more appetizing reasons that a worm of world or a wad of flour mass with sardine)
More logical it be dream that I was one of gold, beautiful and oblong, to furrow the seas in search of a gulp that to throw to the insatiable harvest when, half hidden among algae, I localize a luscious worm and I go toward him without too much prudence. I sharpen the audition, but more for pure oceanic pleasure that for suspicion. I row the echoes of the sea, the rhythmic trot of the hippocampuses, the song of the sirens... The sea appears quiet. Below the gritty bottom, without stones, for in top the cardumen of petty minnows. No one can debate it. The worm is mine.
I escape the on line right line, I open the mouth, I hide it to me, I close the mouth and the nightmare begins. Immediately a cutting pain, the hell that I am nailed in the delicate, and not only palace he/it is flowed in my meat but rather, the own life had as if il/elle, it pulls me toward the surface, no, toward the coast. I move the tail with rage, but every agitation is a trallazo in the palace and the pain is so intense that I disappear slightly. Be what it is that is irresistible and I have take the liberty to crawl, himself not to oppose to resistance, if I don't oppose resistance the pain he/it decreases a level and he/it allows me to think. I immobilize my flukes, my line and my gills that make to me go up and I arrive to the surface, send back the head outside of water, to the murderous air. I analyze the situation and I understand: where the sea finishes and the sands of the beach begin, in not very distant one point, a type with the feet put in the waters of the last reef sustains a fishing rod of respectable measurements. With the right hand he/it directs the spool and he/it tightens the line, with the subject left the cane that bends, magnificent and supple.
I flood again and I am not mistaken, the of gold are realistic fish: I have a fishhook nailed entirely in the palace and I sit down on a lot of fear. For luck I didn't swallow it to me. An octopus who testifies the one hurries and he is witness of my difficulties, he escapes awful for the bottom of sand. Useless to think about to ask for help. The octopus, in the event, throws a throw of ink that muddles all, if he/it goes, even more.
Dazzled by ink, immobilized by the pain, that I cannot fight, I cannot throw, I don't want to nail the painful iron more in my meat and I allow to crawl docile for the line without presenting the resistance nearly. The fisher should have understood that there is not the fight anymore and he thinks that I am his. I take the liberty to guide toward the surface of waters, I want to take the head again. The sun is more and more low and I, without realizing nearly, follow very close to the bank. I detect the tentacular sound of a jellyfish crawled inside by the middle sea and I transmit it my goodbye message. I will die. I reserve the last spasm, but I know very well that all finished for me.
To swim brilliant among the salty waters, to eat, to get married, to lay in their place and to their time. A simple life of gold. All finished for me. This year I won't lay, because this man that now he/it chooses in top the last extents of the line and he/it comes me out of the water that il/elle wants to devour me.
To some time I was witness of a drama similar to this my. A fish as me, of gold or another species, I saw the permission that water pulled by an irresistible strength. Then I didn't think that that could happen. And I knew, I cannot fake ignorance because il/elle knew that I am eatable. So much time I saw a line... broken lines, hooked in the stones. And as lines in asset, with fishhook fed murderous, already with luscious worm, already with fragrant mixture. Sometimes, I even ate, the decoy and I avoided the trap, while being this, exercise applauded by the whole navy fauna. Generally, although when il/elle is discovered the swindle it is made without tempting luck and most courageous dare to nibble the dangerous temptation only.
But I itched like a vulgar sea bream. I didn't see it, I only saw the worm, he/it was hungry and I forgot the usual wisdom, I forgot the fishers and the dry world where I will finish my days choked and to fry and to gnaw until the thorns.
And as I count it, they come me out of the sea. I already miss water and my gills spread and they contract irregularly, but I only find air. I drown. I see the man, serious, face and the sands of the beach.
They raise me in vilo, hung of the fishhook. ! What pain!. I feel that I went life and all is returned fuzzy, this intolerable pain redone not the cloud only, he/it is not walked while hobbling, it is each time but I summarize and il/elle spreads for all my body. Only pain and he/it chokes, the most fabulous disability never felt.
Then, he/it explodes all, I explode and he/it appears that the world also explodes. I tear myself broken by a beastly pain, a trallazo given in the palace that scatters for the whole body and I fall in the sand with the destroyed mouth. The fisher raised me the fishhook of a small only, dry and energetic stroke.
In the sand I will die choked. I don't jump, I am immobile, I concentrate my last and rare energy for the definitive agitation. I am not far from water. I use my rage and my pain to get one of the most dangerous spasms in the navy history of the of gold. I jump in vertical, I throw a sneaky glance the sea of air, an agitation to win the earth, intention to reach water, condemned that is, and I fall again in the sand, in the same condemned place.
I concentrate with my cloudy appearance to the fisher. It is not alone. Two green men come with it.
While he/it loaded the prey they had disappeared him the concerns, but now that the of gold was outside of water and the fight had finished it felt the anguish again in the mouth of the stomach. Il/elle tried to concentrate another time on the fishing. The animal, I live again, you had not swallowed the fishhook until the stomach, as he/it usually happens, but rather il/elle had nailed it, not very deeply, inside the mouth. Not very deep but although nailed, while putting thus of the shoes the glove not to cross the hand with the fine line, and of a small only and strong stroke, he/it could detach himself/itself of him without necessity to use scissors, while recovering this path the whole garment.
Il/elle il/elle is not concentrated, il/elle could not forget the true reason for which was there, next to the sea. The exang|e of gold, finally free of the painful fishhook, immobile layman in the sand. It was black crescent and it was of the few of people in the beach. He/it consulted their clock, the report il/elle has been differed considerably and it made it feel insipid. Yes, it was agitated. He/it directed their appearance toward the mounds of sand after which the freeway reflected with the hope to see the man who waited appear. No one. He/it glanced to the basket where il/elle kept the clothes and useful others, il/elle put knees next to it to open their shelter. The paquetito continued in its place and the fisher didn't want more that to come annulled as soon as possible of it. He/it deviated the view to the fish who had moved the tail slightly in the sand. Il/elle lived again. In their life he/it had been capable to fish a piece of such a magnitude and, precisely today that if to fish was there that was not more than precisely he/it had loaded this afternoon, to hide, the of gold a bigger than il/elle had seen in their life. Knelt in the sand that il/elle remained, while looking thoughtfully at the animal. He/it took the pocket of the anorak a packet of tobacco, and then, while il/elle lit a cigarette, il/elle saw them in the distance. For the bank, in address in the west sun, il/elle came, while walking the couple of the Civil Watch.
The first reaction consisted while immediately escaping, to let all and to escape, but they were more and more near and they had made it directly face. Better time, thought, not to throw. To give had finished the day of the fishing threw the cigarette and he/it began to collect the whole intrigue, he/it separated the garment of the mosquetón that united it to the line and he/it rewound the spool as far as recovering the whole thread. Then, he/it descended and he/it bent the cane in three extents that keep the garment and spool in the basket. Il/elle already had above them. He/it told in their thought the absence of the report with the arrival of the guards, what caused it an unpleasant coldness.
They stopped next to him. One was very young, the other, of more than age, time the one that took the gallons. The two impenetrable.
- Good afternoon - the sergeant greeted.
- Good afternoon - the fisher answered.
A step behind, the number looked at all without losing the detail. The afternoon became sad, it passed to gaggle an only seagull.
- This big Bicharracos is not fished every day here - the sergeant told to signal with the left hand the moribund fish. With the right il/elle held the belt of the cetme.
- None - he/it corroborated the man dryly.
And they were the three in silence. Il/elle won't make all effort to be made the pleasant but il/elle prayed so that the couple of police agents followed its road no more than that of questions.
-? Is it that you from here are? - he/it interrogated the suboficial.
Contact had not arrived. If contact had arrived it would have given the packet and now all would be easier and il/elle would answer with easiness all question that had to formulate it the law, but contact had not appeared. Miró to the eyes of the chestnut salts the sergeant and at a time he deviated the appearance.
- I am not from the place - the fisher answered the previous question - but as if was to him him. I come here each weekend, also in vacations when... - He/it has been interrupted without finishing the sentence, while appearing him that il/elle gave too many explanations. Il/elle had been dried the mouth and il/elle noticed with alarm that a bullet of nerves began to formársele in the stomach. Another seagull passed to steal the trio above and the fisher wanted to be had gone to fly with her.
-? So loving with the fishing? - I ask the guard without discount of the diplomas that speaks for in first time.
- Because yes - the fisher answered.
-? And does il/elle make a lot that you discovered these beaches?
-? Does il/elle say that il/elle comes every weekend?
The questions didn't stop. Diríase that was innocent questions, but the fisher didn't stop seeing in them a something inquisitive. The guards didn't ask to ask, either to encourage the conversation. It was obvious that they came to for him. Around the basket numbers it thieved and il/elle seemed curious the enormous one of gold.
- Il/elle lives again - the fisher told to try to concentrate all the attention on fish -. I took him one moment ago.
But to no one he/it worried the of gold and the man observed with anguish likes to the sergeant he has been hardened the appearance.
-? Does he/it allow me their documentation please?
He/it felt that cold sweated for all pores. The report had not arrived. That, in yes, it was very strange. For against, the Civil Watch appeared. Il/elle made in the evening. Il/elle understood that they had hunted to their contact and that it had sung. Logical. Now they came to for him, when the sun was a red sphere that already disappeared after the mountains of the west. It was not not no one more in the beach, not even the seagulls. They were alone the three.
The fisher extracted the wallet of the pocket of the back of his/her/its trousers. With the small tail of the eye il/elle observed as the number has been placed carefully to his/her/its backs. Il/elle gave them the document that the sergeant took. The following step would be the enrollment. Il/elle had the certainty that they would open the basket and they would give with the packet. The sergeant stopped reading in the documentation and he signalled the basket.
-? What does he/it take there?
He/it has been seen in the Civilian, with handcuffs, interrogated, the cuartelillo of Watch mistreated. Then, the unavoidable suit and, finally, the jail. In this order. It be only but rapids that them. Then the of gold jumped.
It was a dangerous jump, maybe the last spasm of the death. A jump in vertical stupendous for an animal who was in agony of the death. He/it would be said that il/elle wanted to reach the sea in an useless and desperate intention, but il/elle ran closed with vertical and il/elle fell vertical, either an only inch closer to the reef.
The just thing so that the sergeant deviated the appearance that had had until the moment arranged in the fisher. The tip of the shoe, controlled to the testes of the suboficial, didn't miss the stroke. Il/elle knocked the leaning the sergeant in the sand without saying neither of them down ah like a bag of potatoes, with the breathing of the cut. Then, like to slow camera, the man saw the other guard pulling his/her/its gun and to remove it the insurance, all him in silence. Then, the fisher has been thrown in iron in the sand and he caught the first thing that came to the hand him: the of gold. The guard, localized turned at the sea, pointed and he/it pulled the man who had before. The bullet has been encrusted deaf in the sand. The fisher, in turns, that displaces fast and before their adversary repeated the stroke, the you/he/she seized fish for the line and, after having given him the tour two times, the you/he/she threw it to him with big impulse against the face, but the number bent agile the head and the of gold the passed East for above, to hiss nearly, to millimeters of the three-horned charolado.
The impulse takes me to fly until the bank and I disembark in a length of water where the waves arrive and they leave and I am failed half again with the perfume of the man's hands in my flakes, and I am lightheaded, stomach in top. A wave penetrates me in the ocean, other it returns me to the bank. I see, again, the beach. A man of three-horned is spread yourselves in the sand. The other, of foot, has an il/elle arm. I see the fisher who runs for the beach and I listen to a stroke. The basket reversed and il/elle scattered all. I turn on my own axis but I am again above stomach. I cannot make a something else that to wait, choked half again - the gills contracted and half body outside of water - among the waves that take me and they move away me of the bank, so near more man, of the fishing rod now innocuous flew without stopping and fishhook.
It is nearly in the evening. The fisher is a point that he runs and he goes far. The man of the three-horned, nearer, give a stroke of knee in world, aim it with his/her/its weapon. I hear another explosion, I sit down that the low tide, waters retire and the ocean me succiona of their intestines; I turn again on my even half tower, I got it! I recovered the attitude. Less bad, because stomach in top is attitude of fish poisoned. But I recovered the attitude and orientation. I take advantage of the setback of a wave to dive definitely, at the same time as they are deeply open the gills and breathing a breath of water. I am outside and he/it wounds me the whole body, but I came back to the waters of the crotchets and the black night. In the silence of the sea the strokes are not sensible.