Nineteen Claws and a Black Bird by Agustina Bazterrica EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Agustina Bazterrica
- Language: English
- Genre: Literary Short Stories
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
A LIGHT, SWIFT, AND MONSTROUS SOUND
First the dentures fell onto the blue tiles of your patio. They broke in
two, and it was that harsh, metallic sound that stopped you in your
tracks. You crouched down to pick up one of the halves. It was
clearly old and belonged to an unkempt person, someone with no
dental hygiene whatsoever. You wondered who this could be,
whether it was some neighbor whoʼd dropped them or thought to
throw them onto your patio. You were about to take one more step,
to pick up the other half, but you stood there thinking it was a little
ironic that dentures had fallen precisely onto your patio, a dentistʼs
patio, and it was at that moment that Menéndezʼs body fell, seconds
aer his dentures.
The sound of Menéndezʼs body plummeting, breaking, dying on
the blue tiles of your patio, that vulgar and profound noise,
paralyzed you. You clutched the dentures until they cut your hand as
you watched Menéndezʼs blood stain your patio. You thought you
could hear his blood dirtying your tiles; you thought you understood
the sound to be like the cold, a cold thatʼs light, swi, and
monstrous.
You crouched down as though by force of habit and picked up the
other piece, which was very close to your bare foot, your shoeless
foot, a January 1 foot, at home on holiday, at the start of a new year
that would be productive and happy, while your neighbor Menéndez
lay dead on the blue tiles of your patio.
You looked at Menéndezʼs body, which was naked and had no
dentures. You smiled because it would have been very easy for you
to fix his dentures and you would have done so free of charge,
because Menéndez was your neighbor, had been your neighbor. His
mouth was now open, empty. The expression on his face was one of
hatred, a hatred that was pure, specific, directed, a hatred targeted
at the woman who lived on the ground floor in apartment B, at you.
You saw Menéndezʼs red blood, which was essentially black, move
slowly toward your right foot, and you became aware that half a
centimeter had prevented you from ending up underneath the frail
but forceful bones, the yellowed and oily, murderous skin, the
toothless mouth of the filthy old man that was Menéndez.
The sound of his body committing suicide on the blue tiles of
your patio, that sound, which now seemed faint, almost
insignificant, but that had been excessive, cruel, had become mixed
up with the question of why heʼd gone and killed himself on your
patio. Heʼd had several others, abandoned patios, larger patios,
flower-filled patios, empty patios, beautiful patios, patios with no
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