Participants de la III edició del Concurs de Microrelats de la EOI de Palma Andreu Crespí Plaza

 

Aquí tenim el pòster amb tots el participants al III concurs de microrelats. Enhorabona a tots i gràcies per participar.

Xinès B1. Relat guanyador. Maria Alcalde Perelló

 人工智能音箱

被反锁在房子里。没有电，没网络，没手机。连电视都没有。老板请他去照看他的豪华智能公寓的时候，小懒没有想到会情况是这样。水是房子里的人工智能音箱，开始用英语说话，他一个字也听不懂。什么做？到房子以前老板告诉了他："最重要的是，不要重启机器人。不要停用它，不要断开它的电源。如果有问题，会从你的工资中扣除"。

“水，你听! 水，请问!”
他的老板要给他打电话了，再他就会请求帮助。 小懒等着老板的电话在沙发上睡了。

早上，他太渴。这时，书架上他看到一本英语词典。但是人工智能音箱听不懂他说的任何话。它的名字 "水 "也听不懂。哦，可能它的名字也变了。"水 "的英文怎么说？Water！
- Here I am, what do you want？
- Water！
- Here I am, what do you want？
- Water! Water! Drink water!
他喝水完了水龙头开着呢。 - Water，stop it！ 现在他可以和音箱说话了。一个小时后也跟字典的帮助，小懒联系到了他的老板。"你要等到星期一，因为技术人员周末不上班"。挂断电话以前老板提醒他："这时间，你可以练习英语一下。公司支付很多钱你学习英语"。
一挂线，小懒就看到桌子上公司英语学校的宣传单: 爱语言。试试我们的故障防护的方法，让你最困难的工作人员开始学习英语。

Rus B1. Relat guanyador. Irene Oliver Morey

Я любила её видеть, её слышать и, особенно, её чувствовать. Она всё изменяла, абсолютно всё: настроения, чувства, запахи, звучения... Я была рада, когда мы с ней встречались на улице; я начала медленно ходить и никогда не избегала её, как другие. Иногда, она тихонько входила через окно моей комнати и там провела ночь, пока я спала; иногда, она посещала меня не только недолго, но и сильно. Я просто её ненавидела, когда она громко объявила о своем прибытии, но не появилась! Такая большая любовь у меня была в душе, поэтому я выражала её всему миру; хотя всем трудно понимать мою любовь к дождю, я такая какая я есть!

Japonès A1. Relat guanyador. Teresa Guazo Covas

 高校の愛

クラスメートではなくクラスメートの彼女（永子 ）はグループDに行き、彼はAに行きました。
彼（大城さん）は誰もが好きな典型的な人（スマートでハンサム）でした、
彼女はいじめられた悪い成績の典型的な女の子でした​​。
すべての女の子が彼を好きでしたが、彼は1つしか目を持っていませんでした。

大城さん、小学生の頃から恋をしていた永子ちゃんが好きだった、
しかし、彼はクラスDであることを拒否することを恐れて近づいたことはありませんでした。

卒業パーティーの週がやってきて、男の子全員が女の子に踊ってもらいました。
永子 ちゃんは、誰も踊ってくれないことを知っていたので、そういうイベントが気に入らなかった。
高校生の人気男子が永子 ちゃんに一緒に踊ってもらい、恥ずかしくて想像もしなかった。

永子ちゃん は恥ずかしそうに彼と踊りたいと答えた。 その日が来て、それ以来、彼らは今日まで一緒にいます。

Italià A1. Relat guanyador. Amanda Mariana Gouldney Paredes

Disperata

Avevo paura, non era la prima volta che ci provavo. Non volevo sentire quel vuoto e non avevo più opzioni. Non era un posto alto, volevo avere la situazione sotto controllo. Dovevo solo aspettare il momento giusto, un momento di luce che mi liberasse e cambiasse per sempre la mia esistenza.

Ero già pronta. Però, è caduto un sandalo su di un uomo. Mi ha visto e si è affrettato a salire sul tetto. E come se fosse un film, mi ha dato un abbraccio meraviglioso. Mi ha invitato per un caffè e abbiamo chiacchierato. Era il mio salvatore ma sapevo che avrebbe potuto essere qualcosa di più. Quando ci siamo salutati, ho chiarito le mie intenzioni. Ma era infuriato e mi ha lasciato sola. Perché? Mi ha salvato! È stato orribile. Volevo dimenticarlo. Poi, sono tornata disperata in lacrime sul tetto per porre fine a tutto.

E ora sono qui, di nuovo sola. Proverò un'altra volta. Perché è così difficile trovare l'amore? Forse dovrei migliorare la mia strategia o solo usare Tinder.

Italià B1. Relat guanyador. Joan Tomas Martínez Grimalt

ATTRAVERSANDO LA NOTTE

Il profumo amaro dell’acqua salata gli bruciava le guance, ormai rosse per volontà delle stelle. Sedeva sul fondo della barca e tutti i muscoli erano in tensione, come se avessero una corda rigida che li costringessero. Stava zitto perché non aveva altra scelta. Non poteva parlare, né gridare, perché era totalmente da solo. Solamente ascoltava come le onde percuotevano lo scoglio. Aveva perso la cognizione del tempo. Non sapeva se era rimasto là per cinque giorni o per cinque anni eppure si rendeva conto, di tanto in tanto, che la bocca era diventata ruvida come la scorza di un’arancia. Non ricordava nulla. Il cervello sembrava un buio morbido silente. Soltanto era sicuro di una cosa: non aveva mai conosciuto nessun amore diverso da quello che sentiva verso i pesci e gli uccelli marini. E con questo pensiero si allontanava ancora di più da se stesso e si perdeva nelle profondità abissali che lo dondolavano.

Italià C1.1. Relat guanyador. Ana Díaz Maeso

Era una notte d'estate, lui suonava a orecchio un vecchio pianoforte, mentre una donna rideva a crepapelle e mi faceva arrabbiare perché non riuscivo ad ascoltare la musica. Portavo lui sulla palma della mano (gli avevo pure regalato lo strumento alcuni mesi prima), perché mi aveva amato tanto e specialmente ogni volta che avevo avuto bisogno di conforto. Sembrava sguaiato ma non lo era, forse i suoi capelli ormai bianchi e ricci gli davano un'aria così, oppure era quella mosca sul suo mento? In realtà era bello, bello dentro e fuori e destava in me un sentimento che mi faceva sentirmi da Dio! Sicuramente era la persona a cui avevo amato di più. Lui e mia madre mi adottarono quando avevo dodici anni, un'età difficile. La mamma era morta tre anni dopo, ma lui ebbe cura di me come se io fossi il regalo più prezioso della sua vita. Io gli regalai il pianoforte perché lui non aveva mai avuto i soldi per comprarne uno. Lo spendeva tutto in me. Questo era AMORE vero!

Francès A2. Relat guanyador. Araceli Villaverde

 C’est de l’amour?

Un jour, elle a senti comment quelqu’un la regardait, mais à ce moment-là elle ne détourna pas les yeux.
Parfois, elle se sentait même intimidée, égarée mais, en même temps, flattée. Personne ne lui avait prêté attention depuis longtemps, et cela a commencé à changer sa curiosité pour l’agitation, pour le besoin de coïncider avec cette personne, de la rencontrer et d’essayer de comprendre ce besoin.
Céline se sentait très proche malgré la distance, comme si quelque chose les unisait. Elle, pendant un temps, a été abattue par certaines circonstances de la vie, mais le destin voulait combler l’absence. Elle ne savait pas de quoi ni d’où ça venait, mais la proximité insignifiante était là. On ne se connaissait pas, mais le destin l’a voulu ainsi.
Qui sait où le destin les mènera. Au moins, on sait que deux personnes sont ici aujourd’hui, très proches, malgré leur distance qui les sépare.
En ce moment la tendresse fleurit, l’âme est caressée et le sentiment a du sens.

Francès B2.2. Relat guanyador. Juan Luis Jaramillo Torrús

Je me rappelle du jour où mon père est parti. Très tôt, au matin, sans un mot. Seulement une fleur de camomille sur mon lit. Il y a très longtemps, c'était un symbole d’amour.

J’étais furieux contre lui pendant beaucoup de temps. Incapable de comprendre ses raisons pour me laisser. Je ne voyais que son égoïsme.
Mais un jour j’ai appris la raison de son départ: La Main était sur le point de nous attraper. Ils ont chassé et exterminé des gens comme nous pendant des siècles. C’est pour cela que nous étions presque tout le temps en mouvement. Il est parti afin de me sauver, pour s’assurer qu’ils ne connaissent pas mon existence.
Je t’ai appris tout ce que je sais. Mais La Main m’a finalement trouvé. Il faut prévenir qu’ils te trouvent.
C’est pourquoi je te laisse cette fleur de camomille et cette lettre. Pars sans regarder en arrière et cache-toi. Ne montre à personne ce que tu peux faire. Tu dois disparaître. Tu dois vivre.

Avec amour,
Papa

Espanyol per estrangers B2.1. Relat guanyador. Simonetta Maiotti

 El barco procedía a la misma velocidad dando una sensación de increíble tranquilidad. Sentado con los ojos entrecerrados, dejando filtrar reflejos brillantes, aumentaba la percepción de los pensamientos y uno en particular. Habían pasado muchos meses ya y todavía en varios momentos como esto de calma o a débito de pequeños enganches memoriales, como un color que le recordaba su pelo rubio o una canción romántica, Marc siempre tenía que enfrentarse con un sentimiento de difícil definición. El suyo fue un sueño que se interrumpió con increíble rapidez, un hecho al cual no se puede volver y además si hubiera podido volver nunca habría estado como antes . La Sensación que el probaba era privación sin sentido no solo de una persona sino de un Mundo que ella misma representaba. Marc se tiró de repente en el agua esperando de limpiarse el alma y corazón, inundándose en el mar, para que pudiese así empezar nuevamente a aceptar un sentimiento de AMOR que disolviera todos sus sufrimientos.

Català A1. Relat guanyador. Marta Femenias Aguiló

 ABSÈNCIA

Tal com el recordava. Aquell dia cap al tard, ella havia decidit tornar a passejar pel penya-segat, el qual restava intacte des del darrer cop que l’havien visitat junts, inexorable al pas del temps.
Mentre avançava pel caminet escarpat s’imaginava com seria poder tornar a caminar amb ell per aquells corriols de pedra que un temps foren el lloc de les seves quedades secretes. Intercanviant mirades de complicitat, compartint vivències i inquietuds i amb la certesa clara de saber-se tots dos correspostos amb un amor infrangible.
Ja no quedava res ni ningú que pogués omplir el buit que li havia deixat el seu estimat. Durant el darrer any s’havia limitat a existir, privada de forces, abatuda per les fatídiques decisions de l’atzar i amb l’ànima colpejada per l’infortuni.
Amb prou forces va enfilar la gran roca que marcava el final del recorregut. Decidida, va obrir les ales i prenent la darrera alenada d’aire va deixar-se caure per perdre’s per sempre en la immensitat de l’oceà.

Català A2. Relat guanyador. Maria del Camen Romero Borrallo

 La invasió Turca.

Tinc l'estranya sensació d'estar sent envaïda per les telenovel·les Turques. Encenc la televisió i aquí estan, a totes hores. S'anuncien en els programes i fins i tot en els informatius. El producte s'ofereix i ja s'ha venut.
Fa anys va passar el mateix amb les telenovel·les Veneçolanes. Era una adolescent quan veia a la meva àvia afanyar-se a la cuina per seure davant el televisor i no perdre un nou capítol dels centenars que tenien aquelles telenovel·les. La meva àvia gaudia amb les històries d'amor però també patia amb elles. Aquelles històries aconseguien que ella s'oblidés de tot i no pensés en res més que no fos en els protagonistes. Van tenir tant èxit que va marcar la dècada dels 90 i en moltes llars no s'escoltava res més que no fossin els noms d'aquelles actrius, noms de pedres precioses com Esmeralda, Topazi o Rubí.
Avui dia són poques les persones que desconeixen les aventures de Serkan i Eda perquè ara ens toca viure la dècada de la invasió Turca.

Català B1. Relat guanyador. Rhys-William Blake James

 Va trobar el cotxe del seu pare quatre anys més tard.

No va costar cap esforç trobar el cos. Va morir en una casa de massatges, d’un infart. Quan va arribar la policia ja estava vestit, amb les claus del cotxe dins la butxaca i la cartera sorprenenment buida, ja que la casa no disposava de datàfon.
El cotxe estava aparcat a unes quantes illes del lloc de l’esdeveniment, a un carrer residencial. Com que no havia de pagar cap tiquet i no havia hagut motiu per a tallar el carrer durant els darrers quatre anys, hi seguia quan el fill va passar rumb a la casa d’una dona; no la de l’època de l’incident, ella no havia suportat la vergonya d’aquella situació; sinó una que havia conegut a Internet.
Quants records li van venir al cap!
Com besar per primera vegada al seu primer amor.
Es va oblidar de la dona i va anar a cercar la clau.
Va tornar l’endemà ple d’emocions, però la dona, que el día anterior estava mirant des de la finestra, i pensava que el cotxe era d’ell, l’havia cremat.

Català B2.1. Relat guanyador. Margarita Pons Bonet

Era tan fort l’amor que sentia, que només veure-la ja volia menjar-se-la.

En poc temps la va tenir embolicada i als seus peus. La dolça mirada d’aquells ulls sortits la feien cada vegada més i més vulnerable i sense adonar-se’n va quedar hipnotitzada i va endur-se-la al seu món.
Després d’una forta tempesta en la qual ella va patir cops i va quedar greument ferida, ja pensava que no tindria escapatòria. Però en qüestió de segons, la seva força de dona i l’amor propi, li van fer trencar aquell embolic de tela fastigosa y va sortir lliure.
Les teranyines son gairebé invisibles. Obre els ulls.

Català C2. Relat guanyador. Antonia Rigo Adrover

 L’OPORTUNITAT

La Clara és feliç, l’acaben de trucar per si l’interessa participar a un espot publicitari. És clar que sí, quina il·lusió, quina experiència i uns bons dinerets! Ara sí que anirà a tallar-se les puntes dels cabells que fa setmanes que ho pensava.
Necessitem dues al·lotes, si tens una amiga li pots dir.
Segur que a la seva amiga i companya de pis, Eva, també li fa ganes. Serà una alegria compartir-ho. Dona les seves dades.
L’endemà sona el telèfon.
Em sap greu Clara, no t’han agafat, resulta que només necessiten una candidata i han escollit a l’Eva.
La Clara no acaba d’assimilar la feta.
Si et sap greu, Clara, diré que no hi puc anar! -exclama l’Eva.
No, jo per res et demanaria això, em sentiria pitjor del que ja em sent.
Passa una hora i l’Eva ho pensa millor.
Mira Clara, jo no tenc la culpa que m’hagin triat, és una oportunitat i no la pens deixar anar.
La Clara es queda reflexionant si és millor tenir amor propi o amor als demés, si els dos amors poden anar junts...

Català C2. Relat guanyador. Mario Miguel Rodríguez

 "L'empremta del sergent Pepe

La primera activitat a la qual assistí en iniciar l'educació secundària va estar a càrrec d'un professor pigat que vestia un impecable uniforme militar en què ressaltaven les insígnies del grau de sergent.

Com que per dirigir-nos a ell n'hi havia prou que li diguéssim «professor», només recordo que els seus col·legues li deien «Pepe». Doncs bé, aquell professor de cabells noruecs ens oferí una classe que m'impressionà, però que només amb el pas del temps arribaria a avaluar plenament.

No hauria imaginat mai que, per a l'estudi de la història humana, es requerís un tal començament. Pepe ens resumí el sorgiment del sistema solar, el refredament de la Terra, la successió de les eres geològiques i l'aparició de l'Homo sapiens, l'agricultura i els poblats.

Aquell dia vaig sortir de la classe amb tantes sonoritats de dins com les que pugui contenir una bella simfonia; brollava en mi una espurna d'amor a la saviesa, començava a forjar-se la meva concepció del món."

Català C2. Relat guanyador. Coloma Borràs Cerdà

 Teràpia intermitent

Havia anat a teràpia en diverses ocasions al llarg dels darrers vint-i-cinc anys. La primera vegada que necessità mà de metge acudí a un psiquiatre. Fou després d’haver tingut l’infant mort. Aleshores se sentía balmada i, inconscientment, es culpava d’aquell fet luctuós, totalment imprevisible. El metge li receptà ansiolítics i antidepressius, que li provocaren llacunes de memòria.

La segona vegada acudí directament a un psicòleg. Precisament fou en l’època en què iniciaren un procés d’adopció internacional. El psicòleg li diagnosticà tendències suïcides i absència de desig de ser mare. No obstant això, decidí adoptar l’infant.

La tercera fou arran de les enceses i contínues discussions amb la filla, moments que anorreaven l’amor immens que sentia envers ella, fins al punt de colpejar-la i estirar-li els cabells amb ràbia fora mida.

Ben mirat, s’havia resignat a la teràpia intermitent sense resoldre el problema de fons: l’autoacceptació.

Àrab A1. Relat guanyador. Ramon Martos Oliver

 "نجمة، أميرة الطريق

""يا والدي, منذ قمرين لدى أحمد قلبي وحبي""

""هل تتكلمين عن الراعي الذي يعيش في الجبال؟""

""نعم، أتكلم عنه، أتكلم عن أميري، فهو شمسي ونجومي.""

""والله، لن أسمح لك أن تخرقي واجبك، وأنا لن أخرق واجبي. لن تكون ابنتي من تشتم الله، لن تكون ابنتي!""

""أعرف أن الله معي مع أنّكم، رجال القصر، لن تكونوا معي.""

""يكفي! أعرف ذنبك مع الراعي، ولكني ما كنت أعرف كم أنت مجنونة. أمس حللت المشكلة. عشرة رجال أخذوا الراعي إلى وسط الصحراء وهناك أخرجوا عينيه. اليوم رجالي في القصر والراعي يفعل الكفارة عن خطاياه."" 

""يفعل الكفارة عن خطاياه أمام من؟ أمامك أم أمام الله؟ والدي، أنت رجل شرير، أنا أحزن بأحمد. هو تحت عقوبة لأنه يمتلك حب ابنة ملك يعتقد أنه اله. أريد أن تفهم شيئا. أعلم أنّ الله معي ومع أحمد أيضاً. أعرف أنّ الله سيهدي خطواتي ويجعل كلماتي تصل إلى أذنيه هذا الليل"". "

Anglès C1.1. Relat guanyador. Jessica Delgado Moyà

Her smile

At the end of the cold and unknown corridor for an instant, a star crashes and among black dust, the soaked house is one of the most beautiful pictures those brown eyes and bare feet will ever see. Everything happens so fast but so slow at the same time. So noisy and breathless. Like those mute black and white movies. Or the first kiss with your first love. You're never ready. Suddenly, the cry of innocence breaks the silence and those bare feet run towards the end of the hallway, in search of their star. A gigantic shadow appears with bits of light between his hands and a discomposed face. It was a few days ago that she bought her a new dress and that pink telephone-shaped shampoo. It was a few hours ago that the orange juice in the corner was falling on the tablecloth. It was a few seconds ago that her fragrance permeated her arms. It only remains to heed the blizzard caressing those flushed cheeks and in an unanswered question, you lose her smile, ""Where's my mommy?""

Anglès C1.1. Relat guanyador. Leandro Navarro Alorda

"I was in love. I really thought I was. But I was not. I remember the days passing by her side as if they had no end. Never ending long hours watching her smile, swimming in her deep dark blue eyes shaped by a kind of steel I will never understand. She went away. I was shred into tears as my soul was torn apart. 

I was in love. I truly thought I was. But I was not. She said she was no longer in love with me. How can someone say such significant words 'I love you'? How can someone say so harmful words 'I don't love you anymore'? Love is. It can't be stopped. Love isn't. So it never existed.

I was in love. I sincerely thought I was. But I was not. I felt stabbed in my back every time something reminded me of her deceiving eyes. Deep dark ice blue eyes capable of freezing as well breaking spines and bones. Mine, my bones, my flesh. I'm broken within because I once thought I came across with love. In love with you. But I was not. Rephrasing your own words...'I don't love you anymore'. "

Anglès A1. Relat guanyador. Clemencia Fernández Rodríguez

Marina in the mirror.

Marina is 6 years old. She lives with her daddy. She loves him.

When the sun goes down , Marina can see the light of the stars. -Daddy says you are there. When will you come back?

Marina´s Mom lives in the stars. 

Last spring Marina got home, Mom and Dad were crying. -Why are you crying?- My love,we are rain doplets in our eyes. There are many kids in the stars and they don’t know how to laugh. I must travel and help them.

The summer arrives and Marina’s Mom is always in bed. -Come here, my love. It’s the right time. I have a present for you. This mirror is magic. When you need me you can look inside.-

And Mommy leaves.

It's summer again. Dad has rain doplets in his eyes.

-Daddy, do you miss Mommy? You can use my mirror.

Marina is 20 years old.-Daddy, What is love?- Mommy is my forever love.

Marina is 43 years old.-Mommy, what is this?- This is my magic mirror! I can see my mom inside, I can see the true love inside. And now I can see it in your eyes too.

 

Anglès B1. Relat guanyador. Rosa Botana Míguez

In the same instant that I met you I knew that we would be together forever. You were shy at first; we had to learn from each other, what we liked and what we didn't.

Now we are inseparable, you are everything to me... When I'm sad you dry my tears but if I'm happy, you are twice as happy; if I walk you go with me and if I decide to stop you are by my side also you are the sunshine on a sunny day; you are the moon and the stars that illuminate a dark night.

You are adorable, charming and captivating; you are such a gorgeus, sweetheart.

All my love is for you... my one and only little dog. 

Anglès B2.2. Relat guanyador. Nieves Rios Aguilo

My grandfather realized he hadn’t been able to convince my grandmother he was a good match, she still had doubts about him. Then he came up with something. He knew my grandmother loved to dance, however he didn’t know how to take a step, so one day he appeared under her house with a radio and told her he was looking forward to going out to dance with her, but he would need some dance classes first. She couldn’t resist anymore and from that day on, their love story began, and in less than 6 months he popped the question. The proposal wasn’t easy, since my grandmother’s parents didn’t see him very kindly either. My grandfather is “chuetó” which it means that he descends from Jews and this in Majorca in those days gave a very bad reputation since they were seen as unreliable people and even criminals. Finally, my grandmother’s parents agreed to the engagement on the condition when things went wrong (because they already took it for granted) she wouldn’t be able to come back home.

Anglès B2.2 Relat guanyador. Francisca Elena Frau Torres

 Love is much more than a four-letter word.

Generally speaking, when people hear "love", they are thinking of falling in love, loving your family and friends, even loving your house, your car, or your job.

But, in my opinion, there are many ways to share love, and one of the best is to be able to give it to everyone. 

For sure, I bet if you do it, you'll realise that you're happier in your life. And It's worth it.

From my point of view, and most of you are going to agree with me, "love" could be helping people you haven't ever met. Some good advice could be just smile at others and and put your hand on their shoulder. That's very easy and it's free. 

I encourage you, you should try, you wouldn't believe how rewarding it is and how proud you will feel of yourself and the amazing feedback you will create. 

I'll just conclude by saying that "love" could be anywhere. Believe it or not, getting love makes you feel like a better person, and that must be enough for everyone.

Anglès B2.2. Relat guanyador. Maria Elena Torrico Flores

LOVE MUSINGS

I have never considered myself a romantic person

I never imagine having butterflies in my stomach 

And smile like an idiot while looking at someone's face

And simply fall in love

But that was before I met him

He,

With a smile that made me shiver

He,

With those two moles placed under his left eye

He,

With that radiant gaze

His particular way to talk was

eloquent, mesmerizing, charismatic

He was my muse,

the breath of love I needed

He was the epitome of coolness

Surrounded by an aura of mystery

And his honey voice

melted my heart every time he was calling out my name

Back then,I demanded for answers

Can we cosmic like the stars?

Can we intertwine our souls?

Can you focus on me?

But this scenery always occurred on my mind

I never said a word

I was not brave enough to confess

But what if the feeling was reciprocated?

The lack of attention was driving me crazy

Now I cannot shrink this feeling

And everything revolved around love

And now it tends to obfuscate me

Endlessly

Anglès B2.2. Relat guanyador. Liliana Carolina Gómez Tarazona

One summer night I was walking through the park, lost in my thoughts, looking for the meaning of love, a word pronounced by many but meaningless to almost no one. 

More than thirty minutes had passed when I suddenly came back to the real world.  I started my way back, and it was about five minutes after my return when I found it, that old and wonderful book, I took it in my hands, sat down on the bench, began to read it, and I could not help my astonishment when I read its content; it was a compendium of answers to many existential questions and dilemmas. I began to read, page by page, and it was as if it answered all those questions I had.

That night I returned home where, with hesitation, I read the whole book, until I reached the last page, where the writer was going to talk about the greatest of the uncertainties that were going around in my head, I was stunned when the whole book culminated with the definition of that which I was seeking to define: Love.

Anglès C2. Relat guanyador. Clara Oliver Duran

Today, I feel as if I could rise above everything and everyone and looking into the depths of the monopolizing abyss that surrounds me, I could scream that I am no longer afraid.

And I know that I won't be able to fly for long. I know that my wings are as fragile as dreams that come to an end at dawn, gliding smoothly through the clouds. But even if the time when I cannot fly anymore comes, I would like to remain among the clouds, embraced by its damp, cold veils. I would love to hide myself among the branches of water structures, sheltered under barriers of light that, when burning, will break into a thousand pieces. I would love to spend so much time that I am already a part of this watery landscape, that it would rain drops of me, everywhere. And as water, becoming a wave that will silently expire at the beginning of a beach, being carried away by the wind that with its whisper accompanies me or becoming a tear that silently speaks and tells me the secrets of a tormented soul.

Anglès C1.2. Relat guanyador. Eugenia Elia

Flying bee

Many years after getting divorced Sara had decided to start a new life, enjoying the loneliness of a cabin in the middle of Denali's national park, where her father used to work as a forest ranger. Alaska may seem a peculiar place to live, but her love for nature had led her into beekeeping. 

The oddness of her lifestyle had become popular among the locals, who started to call her lady queen-bee. But it didn't bother her, on the contrary, she was delighted with her new status. Considering she was a single woman in a vast wilderness someone must have thought she was afraid of the wood’s darkness, but she was rather excited to share those moments with the trees, hearing the sound of the night. 

A single honey bee usually visits about 7,000 flowers a day but nobody visited her until the morning of April 15th of 1994, when a delivery man parked his van in front of the immense redwood. The only thing he could find was some glasses, and a honeycomb lying on the ground.

Anglès C1.1. Relat guanyador. Francisca Cristina Poncell Bermúdez

Fleeting encounter

I fell in love with you the first and only time I saw you. Gorgeous in your black tailor-made suit, your face (the wide front, the right nose, the juicy lips, the skin so white and unspoiled covered by a subtle make-up) reminded me of the bust of a roman emperor. I must confess that the expensive watch in your wrist shocked me a bit, given the circumstances. As you would have agreed if you had had the opportunity to get to know me better, I am not the materialistic type and it was not neither your physical appearance nor your social position that arrived to my heart, but your soul, revealed in the peace of your expression and in the mystery of your smile. Time flew by the few moments we spent together, me staring at you, you lying close to me, your eyes sweetly closed and oblivious to my presence, in that mahogany coffin with bronze ornaments which suited so well with your unruly hazel hair...