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    The Lake
    The Lake
    The Lake
    Ebook53 pages39 minutes

    The Lake

    By Richard Guerra

    ()

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    About this ebook

    A story about something happened to a person who is dragged to indigence and despair. An abyss calls to another abyss. Conflicts and dilemmas that can lead people to alienation. Situations that we cannot or do not know how to solve or face.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRichard Guerra
    Release dateJun 19, 2017
    ISBN9781370814268
    The Lake
    Author

    Richard Guerra

    Richard Guerra is a Cuban author, who is part of a small literary group in that country, From many years ago he has been writing short stories and even novels, publishing them as an independent publisher. His work deals with a variety of themes, from novels and stories for adults, to illustrated novels for children. He was graduated in 1991 as Electrical Engineer. He live in Miami, and is still writing.

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      Book preview

      The Lake - Richard Guerra

      The lake

      Abyssus Abyssum Invocat.

      Psalms 42: 7

      —I could not do anything, just to take the gun out of his hands and let him die in peace. —he said ruefully and let his pupils to go from the dry fingers in his hands to the crystals that reverberated over the lake, like dragonflies.

      They were crystals, or I thought them like that, like quartz dyed by the sun and the color of the pond; the blue settled in the prairie as if suddenly a sea between the vegetable of trees and rushes sprouted. The lake split in a thousand multicolored crystals, millions of waves, reflections and curves in the water that came, went away, were drowsed on the shore pushed by the wind. They were attenuating themselves until they became entangled with the wild ducks, among the tiny little hens that ran pecking at the water.

      —Let him go,— my father said from the death and I let, but I told to, before I saw him again bending his bony and thin fingers:

      —The dead weigh more than the living, and cannot be taken out from the memory.

      I looked at the dismal face of the man whom I almost never managed to pull out more than four words, with who I now converged watching the jumbled pieces of liquid and foam painted in nuances. He got the peace the same I was; with the fragile transparencies of dreams that flew in bubbles and broke.

      The lake was located in a nearby park and I went there to ease my confinement, to lighten the fatigue of work and distract myself with nature. I was always a passionate lover of nature. When I was a child, I made excursions through caves, rivers, hills and everything that would sound like adventure. I participated along with groups of fans of speleology and archeology in different events and trips through my native country.

      In my new country of residence I had not been able to make any of those trips; all the time was occupied by my work. I had to fight to live. While most of my colleagues and acquaintances spent their free time buying things or making trips to places where there were only different conglomerates of the same frugal people and whose aim was only to squeeze people until to get the last penny, me, I usually used my time to appreciate the things that we could all see, however, perhaps nothing mattered to many others..

      The lake was one of those places, my favorite paradise. I carried with my camera and my arsenal of stuff. I took pictures of everything; about the lake, of the animals, about the vegetation, about the children, in case they were present, about whatever, anything curious that crossed by the front of my lens and also photos that I would elaborate later to achieve the idea that had made me to take it.

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