en castellano más abajo
Paula had seen many beautiful sunsets, but that evening it was especially beautiful. Maybe the colours were brighter, or maybe the air was cleaner. Or it may just be that she was sitting in the park with Luna and Tilda. Luna was taking pictures of them, but especially of Tilda. Tilda always looked the best of the three in pictures and on the mirror. But today she had put make up on for pictures. She needed a portfolio – she had one but she needed to constantly update it, she explained, if she wanted to get a better job as a professional dancer. So she would probably use some of those pictures for her portfolio. Paula was worrying that the light was going away. At the same time, she enjoyed every second of it, and she enjoyed it even more every time she remembered it from then on. One of those, so sweet memories for a lifetime. Tilda had such a nice hair, and her beauty was so apparent that day. She had made up her eyelashes with a deep black mascara to make sure they would be well marked in the photos.
At one point, Tilda took her shoes off and sat barefooted on the grass and the light was perfect. Luna does not have a copy of that perfect picture any more. She sent Tilda the negatives and copies so that she could use them for her portfolio.
As she took pictures with her camera, the sun beams made Luna’s hair even more bright and orange. And just when every one thought Tilda was making love to the camera, she snapped:
“My God Luna. Your hair is so beautiful.”
“?”
“So orange. So bright.”
Luna left her camera on the tripod and when she was sure it would stay there untouched, she put her hands on her hips and bent the upper part of her body to the left. Then back up, then to the right. Then to the left again. Her hair moved above her head with the movement.
“What the hell are you doing, Luna?”
“I am displaying my hair for you so that you can appreciate better its beauty.”
She stopped. She was smiling with her own unique grin.
“Have you appreciated it as you like, or shall I move it more?”
————–
castellano
Paula había visto muchas puestas de sol, pero esa tarde estaba especialmente hermosa. Tal vez los colores eran más brillantes, o tal vez el aire estaba más limpio. O pudiera ser simplemente que estaba sentada en el parque con Luna y Tilda. Luna les sacaba fotos a las tres, pero obre todo a Tilda. Tilda siempre estaba la más guapa de las tres en las fotos y en el espejo. Probablemente Tilda utilizaría algunas de e aquellas fotos para su portafolio, y ella era la única que necesitaba uno.
Mientras sacaba fotos con su cámara, los rayos de sol hicieron el pelo de Luna aún más brillante y naranja. Y justo cuando Paula y Luna pensaban que Tilda estaba haciendo el amor a la cámara, Tilda espetó:
“Dios mío, Luna. Qué pelo tan bonito.”
‘?’
‘Tan naranja. Tan brillante.»
Luna dejó la cámara en el trípode y cuando estuvo segura de que estaba estable, puso las manos sobre las caderas y dobló la parte superior de su cuerpo a la izquierda. Luego volvió a ponerse recta, y luego se dobló de nuevo a la derecha, y luego a la izquierda otra vez. Su pelo se movió por encima de su cabeza con el movimiento.
‘¿Qué coño haces, Luna?’
‘Te enseño mi pelo para que puedas ver y apreciar mejor su belleza.»
Se detuvo. Sonreía con su sonrisa única.
‘¿Lo has apreciado bien, o lo muevo más?’