A lady
José Donoso
certainly do not remember when was the first time I noticed his existence. But if I remember correctly, was some winter evening in a tram going through a poor neighborhood.
When I'm bored in my room and my regular conversations, which usually take a tram tour and go unknown for the city. That evening had a book by it if I liked to read but did not open. It was raining sporadically and the tram moved almost empty. I sat next to a window cleaning a gap in the mist of the glass to watch the streets.
not remember the exact moment she sat beside me. But when the tram halted at a corner, I felt that feeling so commonplace and yet, mysteriously, that the saw, the right time and unimportant as it was, had lived before, or maybe dreamed. The scene I found the exact replica of one that I was known: in front of me, a plump neck poured its folds upon a frayed shirt, three or four seats occupied scattered tram at the corner drugstore was a neighborhood with neon sign, and a policeman yawned beside the red box in the darkness that fell within a few minutes. I also saw a knee covered by a green raincoat with my knee.
knew the feeling, and trouble me more than I liked. So, do not bother to inquire into my mind where and how all this happened before. I sent the feeling with a wry smile inside, limiting myself to look back to see what that knee was still covered with a green raincoat.
was a lady. A woman wearing a wet umbrella in hand and a functional hat on his head. One of these ladies in their fifties, of which there are thousands in this city, neither beautiful nor ugly, neither poor nor rich. His regular features showed the remains of a banal beauty. His eyebrows came together more than usual on the arch of the nose, which was the most distinctive feature of his face. I
this description in the light of subsequent events, it was little noticed then the lady. The bell rang, the streetcar left the scene by fading known, and went back to watching the street through the hole to clean the glass. The lanterns were lit. A boy came out of an office with two carrots and bread in hand. The row of low houses stretched along the sidewalk, window, door, window, door, two windows, while shoemakers, plumbers and grocers shops closed their meager.
I was so distracted that I did not notice when my seatmate got off the tram. How could he feel it if after the instant when I looked and I did not think of it?
I did not think about it until the following night.
My house is located in a very different from that for which I take the tram the previous evening. There are trees on the sidewalks and the houses half-hidden behind fences and bushes. It was quite late, and I was tired, and to pass much of the evening chatting with friends with beer and cups of coffee. I walked to my house with his coat collar up very high. Before crossing the street I saw a figure I felt like family, away in the darkness of the branches. I stopped watching for a moment. Yes, it was the woman who was beside me on the tram from the previous evening. As he passed under a street light immediately recognized her green raincoat. There are thousands of waterproof green in this city, but I did not doubt that it was his own, remembering despite having seen only a few seconds that none of it impressed me. I crossed to the other side. That night I slept without thinking of the figure under the trees away the lonely road.
A sunny morning, two days later, I saw the lady in a downtown street. The movement was at its noon peak. Women lined the windows to discuss the possible acquisition of a garment or fabric. The men left their offices with papers under his arm. I recognized her pass back to mixed with all this, though not dressed as in previous times. I crossed a slight surprise as to why his identity had been erased from my mind, mistaking it for the rest of the inhabitants of the city.
Henceforth I began to see the lady very often. He found everywhere and at anytime. But sometimes spend a week or more without seeing her. It occurred to me that perhaps melodramatic deal to follow. But I rejected the finding that it unlike me, I identified in a crowd. To me, however, I liked both perceive their identity between unknown face. I sat in a park and she was crossing carrying a bag with vegetables. I stopped to buy cigarettes, and she was paying his own. Went to the movies, and there was the lady two seats over there. I looked, but I entertained watching. Her mouth was rather thick. He wore a big ring, very vulgar.
Gradually I began to search. The day did not seem complete without her. Reading a book, for example, I was surprised by speculation about Mrs. instead to concentrate on writing. Placed it in imaginary situations in the midst of objects that I know. Beginning to collect data about you, all of no importance and significance. He liked the color green. Some kind of smoked cigarettes only. She was shopping for home meals.
Sometimes I felt such a need to see, who was leaving as I was busy to go and look. And sometimes he found. Others do not, and turned to lock me cranky in my room, unable to think of anything else for the rest of the night.
One afternoon I went for a walk. Before returning home, when it got dark, I sat on a park bench. Only in this city there are places like that. Small and new, like a utility accident in that neighborhood, or prosperous or miserable. The trees were stunted, as if they had refused to grow offended when planted in soil so poor, in a sector as dull and bland. In one corner, a dark soda fountain clarified the figures of three boys who were chatting in the middle of the pool of light. Within a dry sink, which apparently never was finished, he had bricks cracked, fruit peels, paper. Couples just talking on the benches, as if the ugliness of the square is not conducive to privacy.
For one of the paths forward saw the lady on the arm of another woman. They spoke with animation, walking slowly. Passing before me, I heard the anguished tone lady said:
- Impossible!
The other woman put her arm around the shoulders of the lady to comfort her. Surrounding the pool unfinished turned away by another path.
Restless, I stood up and started walking hoping to find them to ask the lady what had happened. But they disappeared from the streets where few people traveled in pursuit of the last chores of the day. I had no peace
the week following this meeting. Walking around town with the hope that the lady got in my way, but never saw it. He seemed to have become extinct, and left all my chores, because I did not have the slightest ability to concentrate. Needed to see her go, just to see if the pain of that evening in the square continued. Frequented sites that Soliera glimpse it stop some people thinking that I fancied her relatives or friends to ask for the lady. But did not know who to ask and let them go. I did not see throughout the week.
The following weeks were worse. I got to feign illness to stay in bed and forget this presence that filled my ideas. Perhaps after several days without leaving suddenly found her the first day and when I least expected. But I could not resist, and left after two days when the lady lived my room at all times. When I got up, I felt weak, physically ill. Still took trams, went to the movies, toured the market and attended a function of a circus outside the walls. The lady did not appear anywhere.
But after some time I saw her again. I was inclined to tie a shoelace and saw the sun pass through street, carrying a big smile on his face and a bunch of mimosa in hand, the first of the season began. I wanted to follow, but lost in the confusion of the streets.
His image faded from my mind after of losing track on that occasion. I returned to my friends, I met people and walked alone or accompanied by the streets. Not that forget it. Their presence, rather, seemed to have merged with the rest of the people who inhabit the city.
One morning, after, I awoke with the certainty that the lady was dying. It was Sunday, and after lunch went for a walk under the trees in my neighborhood. On a balcony an old woman was sunbathing with his knees covered by a furry scarf. A girl in a meadow, painted red garden furniture, ready for the summer. There were few people, and objects and the noises were drawn accurately crisp air. But somewhere in the same city that I walked, the lady was going to die.
went home and I settled into my room to wait.
From my window, I shiver in the breeze lighting wires. The afternoon was slowly maturing beyond the roofs, and beyond the hill, the light was spending more and more. The wires were vibrating, breathing. In the garden someone watering the lawn with a hose. The birds are getting ready for the night, noise and movement filling the tops of the trees he saw from my window. Laughed a child in the garden next door. A dog barked. Instantly
then all noise stopped at once and opened a well of silence in the peaceful afternoon. Wires no longer vibrated. In an unfamiliar neighborhood, the lady was dead. Some home entornaría his door that night, and would burn candles in a room full of voices stay and consolation. The afternoon slipped imperceptibly into a final, shutting down all my thoughts about the lady. Then I must have slept, because I remember more of that later.
next day I saw in the newspaper that the relatives of Doña Esther Arancibia announcing his death, giving the time of the funeral. Could it be? ... Yes No doubt she was.
attended the cemetery, following the procession slowly through the long avenues, including silent people who knew the features and the voice of the woman who felt pain. Then I walked a while under the dark trees, because that sunny afternoon brought me a special peace.
Mrs. Now I think only very occasionally.
Sometimes the idea comes to me in a corner for example, that the present scene is just playing another previously experienced. On those occasions it occurs to me that I will go see the lady, frowning and green raincoat. But it makes me laugh a little, because I saw his coffin lay in the niche in a wall with hundreds of niches all the same.
José Donoso
certainly do not remember when was the first time I noticed his existence. But if I remember correctly, was some winter evening in a tram going through a poor neighborhood.
When I'm bored in my room and my regular conversations, which usually take a tram tour and go unknown for the city. That evening had a book by it if I liked to read but did not open. It was raining sporadically and the tram moved almost empty. I sat next to a window cleaning a gap in the mist of the glass to watch the streets.
not remember the exact moment she sat beside me. But when the tram halted at a corner, I felt that feeling so commonplace and yet, mysteriously, that the saw, the right time and unimportant as it was, had lived before, or maybe dreamed. The scene I found the exact replica of one that I was known: in front of me, a plump neck poured its folds upon a frayed shirt, three or four seats occupied scattered tram at the corner drugstore was a neighborhood with neon sign, and a policeman yawned beside the red box in the darkness that fell within a few minutes. I also saw a knee covered by a green raincoat with my knee.
knew the feeling, and trouble me more than I liked. So, do not bother to inquire into my mind where and how all this happened before. I sent the feeling with a wry smile inside, limiting myself to look back to see what that knee was still covered with a green raincoat.
was a lady. A woman wearing a wet umbrella in hand and a functional hat on his head. One of these ladies in their fifties, of which there are thousands in this city, neither beautiful nor ugly, neither poor nor rich. His regular features showed the remains of a banal beauty. His eyebrows came together more than usual on the arch of the nose, which was the most distinctive feature of his face. I
this description in the light of subsequent events, it was little noticed then the lady. The bell rang, the streetcar left the scene by fading known, and went back to watching the street through the hole to clean the glass. The lanterns were lit. A boy came out of an office with two carrots and bread in hand. The row of low houses stretched along the sidewalk, window, door, window, door, two windows, while shoemakers, plumbers and grocers shops closed their meager.
I was so distracted that I did not notice when my seatmate got off the tram. How could he feel it if after the instant when I looked and I did not think of it?
I did not think about it until the following night.
My house is located in a very different from that for which I take the tram the previous evening. There are trees on the sidewalks and the houses half-hidden behind fences and bushes. It was quite late, and I was tired, and to pass much of the evening chatting with friends with beer and cups of coffee. I walked to my house with his coat collar up very high. Before crossing the street I saw a figure I felt like family, away in the darkness of the branches. I stopped watching for a moment. Yes, it was the woman who was beside me on the tram from the previous evening. As he passed under a street light immediately recognized her green raincoat. There are thousands of waterproof green in this city, but I did not doubt that it was his own, remembering despite having seen only a few seconds that none of it impressed me. I crossed to the other side. That night I slept without thinking of the figure under the trees away the lonely road.
A sunny morning, two days later, I saw the lady in a downtown street. The movement was at its noon peak. Women lined the windows to discuss the possible acquisition of a garment or fabric. The men left their offices with papers under his arm. I recognized her pass back to mixed with all this, though not dressed as in previous times. I crossed a slight surprise as to why his identity had been erased from my mind, mistaking it for the rest of the inhabitants of the city.
Henceforth I began to see the lady very often. He found everywhere and at anytime. But sometimes spend a week or more without seeing her. It occurred to me that perhaps melodramatic deal to follow. But I rejected the finding that it unlike me, I identified in a crowd. To me, however, I liked both perceive their identity between unknown face. I sat in a park and she was crossing carrying a bag with vegetables. I stopped to buy cigarettes, and she was paying his own. Went to the movies, and there was the lady two seats over there. I looked, but I entertained watching. Her mouth was rather thick. He wore a big ring, very vulgar.
Gradually I began to search. The day did not seem complete without her. Reading a book, for example, I was surprised by speculation about Mrs. instead to concentrate on writing. Placed it in imaginary situations in the midst of objects that I know. Beginning to collect data about you, all of no importance and significance. He liked the color green. Some kind of smoked cigarettes only. She was shopping for home meals.
Sometimes I felt such a need to see, who was leaving as I was busy to go and look. And sometimes he found. Others do not, and turned to lock me cranky in my room, unable to think of anything else for the rest of the night.
One afternoon I went for a walk. Before returning home, when it got dark, I sat on a park bench. Only in this city there are places like that. Small and new, like a utility accident in that neighborhood, or prosperous or miserable. The trees were stunted, as if they had refused to grow offended when planted in soil so poor, in a sector as dull and bland. In one corner, a dark soda fountain clarified the figures of three boys who were chatting in the middle of the pool of light. Within a dry sink, which apparently never was finished, he had bricks cracked, fruit peels, paper. Couples just talking on the benches, as if the ugliness of the square is not conducive to privacy.
For one of the paths forward saw the lady on the arm of another woman. They spoke with animation, walking slowly. Passing before me, I heard the anguished tone lady said:
- Impossible!
The other woman put her arm around the shoulders of the lady to comfort her. Surrounding the pool unfinished turned away by another path.
Restless, I stood up and started walking hoping to find them to ask the lady what had happened. But they disappeared from the streets where few people traveled in pursuit of the last chores of the day. I had no peace
the week following this meeting. Walking around town with the hope that the lady got in my way, but never saw it. He seemed to have become extinct, and left all my chores, because I did not have the slightest ability to concentrate. Needed to see her go, just to see if the pain of that evening in the square continued. Frequented sites that Soliera glimpse it stop some people thinking that I fancied her relatives or friends to ask for the lady. But did not know who to ask and let them go. I did not see throughout the week.
The following weeks were worse. I got to feign illness to stay in bed and forget this presence that filled my ideas. Perhaps after several days without leaving suddenly found her the first day and when I least expected. But I could not resist, and left after two days when the lady lived my room at all times. When I got up, I felt weak, physically ill. Still took trams, went to the movies, toured the market and attended a function of a circus outside the walls. The lady did not appear anywhere.
But after some time I saw her again. I was inclined to tie a shoelace and saw the sun pass through street, carrying a big smile on his face and a bunch of mimosa in hand, the first of the season began. I wanted to follow, but lost in the confusion of the streets.
His image faded from my mind after of losing track on that occasion. I returned to my friends, I met people and walked alone or accompanied by the streets. Not that forget it. Their presence, rather, seemed to have merged with the rest of the people who inhabit the city.
One morning, after, I awoke with the certainty that the lady was dying. It was Sunday, and after lunch went for a walk under the trees in my neighborhood. On a balcony an old woman was sunbathing with his knees covered by a furry scarf. A girl in a meadow, painted red garden furniture, ready for the summer. There were few people, and objects and the noises were drawn accurately crisp air. But somewhere in the same city that I walked, the lady was going to die.
went home and I settled into my room to wait.
From my window, I shiver in the breeze lighting wires. The afternoon was slowly maturing beyond the roofs, and beyond the hill, the light was spending more and more. The wires were vibrating, breathing. In the garden someone watering the lawn with a hose. The birds are getting ready for the night, noise and movement filling the tops of the trees he saw from my window. Laughed a child in the garden next door. A dog barked. Instantly
then all noise stopped at once and opened a well of silence in the peaceful afternoon. Wires no longer vibrated. In an unfamiliar neighborhood, the lady was dead. Some home entornaría his door that night, and would burn candles in a room full of voices stay and consolation. The afternoon slipped imperceptibly into a final, shutting down all my thoughts about the lady. Then I must have slept, because I remember more of that later.
next day I saw in the newspaper that the relatives of Doña Esther Arancibia announcing his death, giving the time of the funeral. Could it be? ... Yes No doubt she was.
attended the cemetery, following the procession slowly through the long avenues, including silent people who knew the features and the voice of the woman who felt pain. Then I walked a while under the dark trees, because that sunny afternoon brought me a special peace.
Mrs. Now I think only very occasionally.
Sometimes the idea comes to me in a corner for example, that the present scene is just playing another previously experienced. On those occasions it occurs to me that I will go see the lady, frowning and green raincoat. But it makes me laugh a little, because I saw his coffin lay in the niche in a wall with hundreds of niches all the same.
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