NARAS TEMABLE DE FANTASMAS E OTRA COSAS

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Ep.19 “Mense de ??????”

Ep.19 “Month of ??????”

- Lo es la tempo…

- It’s time…

Acel ia es lo cual la caxa ia dise.

That’s what the box said.

- Lo es la tempo…

- It’s time…

Acel ia es tota cual lo ia dise sempre. Lavina ia abita un aparte peti con mures fria de brices e un solo ru de petra. On ia ave un tapeto a la sentro de la sala ma lo ia es multe rascosa e par causa de esta el ia prefere la petra.

That’s all it ever said. Lavina lived in a small apartment with cold brick walls and a rough stone floor. There was a rug in the center of the room but it was so scratchy that she preferred the stone.

- Lo es la tempo…

- It’s time…

La caxa ia es negra e sin marcas distinguinte, internida en la mur contra la porte xef. A veses lo ia silenti per oras o an dias. A veses lo ia parla sin pausa.

The box was black and featureless, embedded in the wall across from the front door. Sometimes it would go hours or even days without saying anything. Sometimes it talked non-stop.

- Lo es la tempo… Lo es la tempo…

- It’s time… It’s time…

- Me sabe ce lo es la tempo, - Lavina ia dise, iritada par la caxa car lo es tan parlosa oji. - Tu no debe dise a me.

- I know it’s time, - said Lavina irritated at the box for being so talkative today. - You don’t have to tell me.

- Lo es la tempo…

- It’s time…

Lavina ia lansa un de sua camisas vea per covre la caxa. Lo no ia aida multe silenti la vose, ma a la min esta ia asconde la caxa de sua oios.

Lavina threw one of her old shirts over the box. It didn’t do a good job muffling the voice but at least she didn’t have to look at it.

- Lo es la tempo…

- It’s time…

- Me ia ta debe vade a la comederia ier, - el ia dise a vose a se. - Me no ave comedas. Me ia ta debe vade a la comederia.

- I should have gone to the grocery store yesterday, - she said out loud to herself. - I’ve got no food. I should have gone to the grocery store.

On ia ave ris restante en la friador, ma lo ia resta ala per alga dias e el no ia es en umor per come lo.

There was leftover rice in the fridge but it was a few days old and she didn’t feel like eating it.

- Lo es la tempo…

- It’s time…

- Me no va ave denova un auto asta mercurdi. Me ia ta debe vade a la comederia.

- I don’t have a car again until Wednesday. I should have gone to the grocery store.

Lavina ia senta se sur la solo e ia apoia a retro contra la friador. La aira calda fluente su lo ia caldi sua corpo.

Lavina sat on the floor and leaned back against a refrigerator, the hot air flowing under it warming her body.

- Lo no es la tempo.

- It’s not time.

Lavina ia leva sua testa. El ia regarda la loca a la mur do la caxa ia es aora covreda par sua camisa vea.

Lavena’s head shot up. She stared at the spot on the wall where the box was now covered by her old shirt.

- Cual tu ia dise?

- What did you say?

Silentia.

Silence.

Bambolante el ia leva a sua gamas.

Unsteadily she got to her feet.

- Cual tu ia dise?!

- What did you say?!

La caxa no ia responde. Per la cuatro anios en cuando el ia abita esta aparte el no ia oia ce lo dise cualce cosa estra “lo es la tempo”. Serta, el ia oia nunca ce lo dise “lo no es la tempo”. Esce sua mente ia engana el? El ia es multe fame e multe fatigada. Lo ia es un semana difisil.

The box did not respond. In the four years she had lived in this apartment she had never heard it say anything except “It’s time”. She had certainly never heard it say “It’s not time”. Had her mind played a trick on her? She was very hungry and pretty tired. It had been a difficult week.

- Responde a me! - el ia cria e ia freta a la mur do la caxa ia abita. - Responde a me!

- Answer me! - she yelled and stormed over to the wall in which the box made its home. - Answer me!

El ia aranca sua camisa a via, revelante… no cosa. Un mur plana. On ia ave no caxa. El ia sanglota e sua gamas debil ia cade el a la solo.

She ripped her shirt away revealing… nothing. A flat wall. There was no box. She gasped and her legs gave out sending her crashing to the ground.

- Lo ia desapare! - el ia cria. - Lo ia desapare!

- It’s gone! - she yelled. - It’s gone!

El ia vide la caxa nunca denova. E esta es bon car la caxa ia es un metafor, e el no ia comprende la refere. Como ance me. Vos?

She never saw the box again. Which is a good thing because the box was a metaphor and she didn’t understand for what. I don’t either. Do you?