Alejandro entered a kingdom that challenged the description. Carlos del Puente Stories

 Alejandro entered a kingdom that challenged the description.

In a quiet city where the air was always full of aroma of flourishing lilies, a young man named Alejandro lived. He was a peculiar character, often found lost in his own thoughts, his eyes acted with a sense of unmistakable astonishment. Alejandro was a painter, known for his abstract pieces who captured the essence of his dreams and nightmares, and the way the light danced on the canvas was fascinating. His study was a messy sanctuary of medium finished canvases, each one window to a world that no one could see.

A suffocating afternoon, Alejandro stumbled upon a narrow and unpretentious road that makes its way through the dense foliage on the edge of the city. It was as if the road had been waiting for it, a silent invitation whispered by the leaves. Curiosity woke up, the cracked pavement was removed and on the cold and humid land, their canvas shoes sink slightly with each step. The air became heavier as the sounds of the city faded, replaced by a rhythmic choir of invisible creatures that seemed to click with the vitality of the surrounding flora.

The road became narrower, the most exotic plants. Alejandro's heart accelerated with the emotion of the discovery as he walked more deeply in the foliage. The vibrant colors of the plants began to mix in a way that turned his head, and felt an overwhelming need to paint them. But at the time he reached his brushes, the colors would change and withdraw, leaving him with just a memory of his beauty. It was as if the road itself was playing with him, an artistic temptation song of a siren who became stronger with every step he took. As Alejandro ventured even more, the road became more steep, and the trees became higher, throwing long and strange shadows that danced with the light that faded. The aroma of the lilies passed, replaced by an intoxicating aroma that made it feel estimated and slightly nausea. He ran into a clear, where a peculiar tree stood up, his branches twisted in impossible shapes that seemed to call him closer. The cortex was a mottled mixture of colors that reminded him of his favorite palette, and the leaves whispered secrets that only he could hear. He extended to touch him, the roughness of the cortex scraping against his fingers, and a sudden avalanche of energy arose through his body, leaving him trembling with a new desire for the colors that eluded him.

The way ahead became more dangerous, the air full of anticipation. Alejandro breathed deep, preparing for what he advanced. I knew that the charm of the road was powerful, but little I knew he was about to embark on a trip that would challenge his single understanding of reality and desire. The hypnotic landscape of the addictive road was before him, a prison of sensory overload that would soon catch him within his reach.

While Alejandro continued ascending, the ground under his feet became spongy and unpredictable, as if the earth itself was alive and responded to his presence. He took cautious steps, his eyes threw themselves from side to side, trying to capture the always changing patterns of light and color that touched the leaves. The whispers became stronger, urging him to paint faster, to keep up with the fleeting beauty that surrounded him. His heart was beating in his chest, a mixture of emotion and fear. 

He had never felt so alive, but so completely out of control. The road became even more steep, and Alejandro was panting, his legs burning with the effort to climb. But the promise of what awaited him was too big to return now. The colors became more intense, the most intoxicating odors and the most insistent whispers. His mind swimmed with the infinite possibilities of what he could create if he could continue advancing. It was as if the road itself was feeding its obsession, increasingly attractive with each step it took.

Finally, the road reached its peak, and Alejandro entered a kingdom that challenged the description. It was a place where the laws of nature were inclined to the will of their imagination, where the very tissue of reality was painted in blows of pure emotion. The clear tree approached him, his branches now extend as pure tentacles, each by pressing with his own life. I knew that to touch it it would be to embrace madness, give in to the addiction that had brought it here. But the desire was too strong. He extended his hand with trembling hands, and when his fingers grazed the first color thread, the world around him exploded in a symphony of light, sound and aroma that dragged him like a wave.

At that time, Alejandro realized that the road had been a test, an entrance door to a kingdom where his artistic obsession could destroy or raise it to new heights. The choice was yours, but the price was steep. With a determination that was terrifying and stimulating, he seized the colorful zaro and allowed himself to be dragged to the heart of the tree. The whispers grew to a crescendo, and the world off the road vanished, leaving only the addictive hug of the colors they had called him for so long. His trip had just begun, and there was no going back.

By Carlos del Puente relatos