The Relic

Francisco Angulo

The Relic

Mandala & LápizCero

© Francisco Angulo, 2006

Editor:

Javier Estévez Lozano

© Mandala & LápizCero, 2006

C/ Moquetas, 19

28029 Madrid 91 314 86 23

Translated by:
Teresa Rodríguez
www.voxroxmedia.com
teresa@voxroxmedia.com

Sponsored by:

CiÑe (Círculo independiente Ñ de escritores) www.circuloindependiente.net info@circuloindependiente.net 669 900 284

Distributed by:

Octógono Libros Imprime: Publidisa

ISBN:

Legal deposit:

Printed in Spain

All rights reserved

The Relic

Hazel Eyes

"HAZEL EYES"used to spend many long hours staring at me. I can't quite understand what she saw in me but she loved sitting acrossthe field and lookat me intensely. I too loved watching her. She was rather small –not even five feet tall – and thin. Her skin was tannedand it was generally covered in animal fur to protect her from the cold. On her hair, there were always a myriad of decorations that varied with the seasons. Spring time called for tiny flowers carefully plated in while in winter she seemed to prefer strings dyed in different tones.One ornament or another dangled always from her necklace, usually a fine leather strip and a shell or small mud figurine that she had shaped with her own hands. She belonged to a tribe that had settled near me in a group of very shallow caves they had converted into their home. "Hazel Eyes"had apenetrating look and observed everything with curiosity, trying to make sense of the world that surrounded her as if part of a magical realm. She studied the dancing of the tree tops caused by the wind. She held small insects in her hand, and after examining them and trying to understandwhat they were, she'dput them back on the ground careful not to harm them. She spent hours observing birds and mimicking their chirping. And then she'd run around me in circles, stretching her arms and moving them up and down as if one of them.

In spring, the green grass of the meadow to my left grew tall and filled with dandelions. "Hazel Eyes" loved to jump on that green mantle and in doing so she ended up covered in dandelions' seeds which were then, washed away by the gentle breeze of spring. That beautiful creature was tireless. She could spend hours jumping and playing to catch the seeds fluttering in the wind and when these quivered upwardly towards the sky "Hazel Eyes"would stopher movements, closeher eyes and stand still waiting in silence. Then, some of them would begintheir descent, gently caressingher face. I would have loved to experience that feeling of soft seeds landing on me like feathers. At times a seed would enter her nostrils, making her sneeze - this was very funny, because "Hazel Eyes"looked sopuzzled and baffled by what had just happened.