Gargantua was eating the Minotaur's leg with due envy. The scene was as absurd as it was imaginable, as if the universe itself had been twisted to give rise to such an encounter. Gargantua, that titan of colossal proportions, known for his insatiable appetite and his eternal search for wisdom, was now voraciously devouring the leg of the Minotaur, that mythological creature half bull, half man, who used to prowl through labyrinths and cause havoc among the innocent. 

But how had they reached this point? How could a being of such magnitude as Gargantua now find himself chewing the Minotaur's flesh with evident delight? The answer, if it existed, was lost in the meanders of time and madness. 

It all began, so the story goes, on an ordinary day when Gargantua decided to explore the furthest reaches of the known world. His steps took him through enchanted forests, where trees whispered secrets in a forgotten language, and rivers of lava flowed serenely under a sky of unknown hues. It was in one of these surreal landscapes that he found the Minotaur, not in a labyrinth, but in a meadow of giant flowers, peacefully grazing among the strangest animals a human could imagine. 

At first, Gargantua thought the Minotaur was just another creature of this strange world, perhaps a guardian of some hidden treasure or a wise man disguised in the form of a beast. He approached cautiously, extending a hand in a sign of peace, but the Minotaur looked at him with empty eyes, as if he did not understand the titan's intention. 

It was then that Gargantua noticed the hunger that consumed him. It was not the physical hunger he was accustomed to, but something deeper, a need for knowledge and experience that could only be satisfied by devouring the unknown. And there, before him, was the Minotaur, a mythological creature, a symbol of labyrinths and enigmas. 

Without a second thought, Gargantua reached out with his massive hands and grabbed the Minotaur, who struggled weakly before being dragged into the titan's open mouth. Gargantua bit down hard, feeling the flesh give way beneath his teeth, and began to chew, savoring each bite as if he were deciphering an ancient text. 

Meanwhile, the Minotaur, though at a disadvantage, was not about to be devoured without a fight. His eyes glowed with a hellish light, and words in an ancient language came out of his mouth, calling upon darkened forces to defend himself. The air around him began to vibrate, and the giant flowers stirred as if they were being whipped by an invisible wind. 

Gargantua, oblivious to these manifestations, continued his feast, now with a hint of envy in his gaze. He envied the essence of the Minotaur, its connection to labyrinths and mysteries, and he wished to absorb it completely to make it his own. 

Suddenly, the ground shook, and from the center of the meadow emerged a living labyrinth, its stone walls and vegetation growing at an alarming speed. Gargantua, shocked, looked around, but the Minotaur was no longer in his mouth. Instead, he found a metallic taste and a feeling of emptiness. 

Then, he understood that the Minotaur had tricked him, that it was actually he who controlled the labyrinth, and that Gargantua had been caught in his own desire for knowledge. Now, he had to find the way out of the labyrinth before the Minotaur came back with revenge. 

He ran through the twisting corridors, his footsteps echoing like thunder, as the labyrinth twisted and changed shape around him, as if it had a life of its own. Every time Gargantua thought he had found the way out, he came across a new passage or an unforeseen obstacle. The walls seemed to move and transform, presenting new traps and challenges around every corner. 

At one point, he found himself in front of a circular room with an altar in the center, upon which rested an ancient book with pages that seemed to be made of human skin. The book emitted a faint light and seemed to draw his attention, as if it contained vital secrets. 

Gargantua, always thirsty for knowledge, could not resist the temptation to examine the book. He carefully opened it, and as he did so, a whispering voice began to read in his mind the mysteries it contained. It was information about the origin of the Minotaur, about the nature of the labyrinth, and most importantly, about how to escape from there. 

However, as he read, he felt that something was changing in him. It was as if the knowledge absorbed from the book was altering his essence, transforming him in some way. His body began to change, becoming more beastly, while his mind filled with confusing and disturbing images. 

Suddenly, the entire labyrinth trembled, and an imposing figure emerged from the shadows: the Minotaur, now larger and more powerful than before, with sharp horns and eyes that burned with suppressed anger. 

“You have violated my territory, titan,” the Minotaur roared. “And you have desecrated my secrets. Now, you will pay for your audacity.” 

Gargantua, confused and upset by the transformation he was experiencing, tried to defend himself. But his movements were clumsy and uncoordinated, as if his body did not fully respond to his commands. 

The Minotaur charged at him, antlers raised, ready to inflict a fatal blow. Gargantua, in a last attempt, raised a fist to block the attack, but it was in vain. The Minotaur's horn pierced his flesh, causing sharp pain. 

Just when all seemed lost, Gargantua recalled the words of the book, fragments of knowledge that still echoed in his mind. With a superhuman effort, he summoned an inner strength, an energy that seemed to come from the very essence of the labyrinth. 

A blinding glow illuminated the room, and when the light dimmed, both Gargantua and the Minotaur had disappeared, leaving behind only the book and the altar, as if nothing had happened. 

But in reality, much had changed. The labyrinth began to crumble, its walls slowly giving way until it vanished completely. The meadow of giant flowers returned to normal, and the world seemed to regain its balance. 

Some say that Gargantua and the Minotaur merged their essences into a new being, a being that combined the wisdom of the titan and the strength of myth. Others claim that both were sucked into the labyrinth, forever lost in its intricate dungeons. 

The truth is that from that day on, the world was never the same. The boundaries between reality and fantasy grew thinner, and legendary beings began to appear more frequently on the mortal plane. 

And Gargantua, if he survived his encounter with the Minotaur, surely still wanders this strange world, searching for answers and facing challenges few could imagine. 

xxxx 

In a forest of giant mints and sugar trees, where time slipped by like a whisper of butterflies, Gargantua, the giant of dreams, walked with a smile that stretched to his knees. His eyes, two wells of eternity, shone with a mixture of hunger and curiosity. 

Suddenly, in the middle of a clearing filled with flowers that danced to the rhythm of an invisible wind, the Minotaur appeared. This was not the Minotaur that the legends knew of, no, this was a Minotaur made of shadows and light, with horns that turned like hourglasses and skin that changed color like a rainbow in rain. 

The Minotaur, noticing Gargantua's presence, stopped and raised a leg, a leg that seemed to be made of shooting stars and unicorn dust. Gargantua, with envy that overflowed like a river in spring, slowly approached, his steps echoing like war drums. 

With a movement that mixed grace and ferocity, Gargantua crouched down and, with a smile that revealed diamond teeth, ate the Minotaur's leg. But it was no ordinary action, it was a dance of wisdom and madness, a dance between heaven and earth. 

Instantly, the leg became a storybook floating in the air, its pages filled with stories that only Gargantua could understand. And as Gargantua read, the entire forest began to sing, the flowers danced, and the wind whispered ancient secrets. 

Thus, Gargantua, the giant of dreams, became the narrator of an absurd and surreal tale, where hunger was poetry and envy, a heavenly gift. 

xxxx 

In a shipwreck of reality, Gargantua sat on the edge of a plate covered with moon silk, contemplating the stars that danced over an ocean of mayonnaise. With excessive seriousness, he held between his bony fingers the leg of a Minotaur, whose aroma of cinnamon and sugar impregnated the air with a strangely appetizing aroma. 

The leg, despite being recently torn off, jumped slightly and cast reproachful glances at Gargantua, who observed it with a mixture of curiosity and envy. The giant's eyes were lost in the horizon, where a crimson circus train passed through a cloud of cotton candy, leaving a trail of moths fluttering to the rhythm of an invisible orchestra. 

"You know," Gargantua murmured, addressing the leg, "I've always dreamed of being a mythological animal. Something grand and terrifying, like you. But I ended up being a giant human with an insatiable palate and eternal digestion." 

The Minotaur's leg snorted, or at least Gargantua would swear it did, as it continued its desolate dance. With a sigh, the giant sank his teeth into the flesh, which fell away with a sound like waves on a deserted beach. The texture, surprisingly similar to that of a puff pastry, melted in his mouth, releasing a taste of primeval forests and boredom of the stars. 

As he chewed, Gargantua noticed that his toes were beginning to grow to impossible lengths, coiling around his leg like curious vines. The tear that ran down his cheek left a trail of rose petals, and the moonsilk plate filled with a shower of meaningless words, each one brighter and more glittering than the last. 

"Have you also dreamed of being someone else?" Gargantua asked the hunk of Minotaur, his eyes changing color, taking on shades of jade and turquoise. "Have you ever felt that devouring envy, that longing to be something more, something different?" 

The leg, which had already stopped moving, seemed to think about it for a moment before dissolving into a pool of blue ink. Gargantua, still chewing, reached out and picked up a ruby ​​pencil that was floating nearby, scribbling words in the air that transformed into butterflies of light that flew toward the circus train. "I'd better hurry," thought Gargantua, as he stood up and took a step to the edge of the plate. "I don't want to miss the train." 

And so, with the Minotaur's leg still in his mouth and the butterflies of light escorting him, Gargantua walked towards the horizon, vanishing in a mist of anise and cinnamon, leaving behind an empty plate and the echo of his laughter, which faded in the wind like a whisper of the absurd and the marvelous. 

xxxx 

In the heart of Watteau's in against of time marshes, where the sky wove the landscape of the smokes, Gargantua sat astride his in against of time chair, contemplating the vast span of the horizon with the eyes of his in against of time consciousness. The sky, in against of time in an ocean of crimson, glittered with stars that were nothing more than deterita fish caught in the window of time. 

Gargantua, whose body exceeded normal proportions but Not In The Ordinary Sense, felt an incredible appetite. His stomach, capable of containing incredible universes, demanded its dose of the substance of which the myth was made. Without stopping Watteau or an in against of time third, Gargantua decided in against of time to the region of the in against of time ashes, where the myth resided in its thousand fish. 

There, in a landscape where dinners flowed in contrasens, he found the Minotaur, whose legs shone with a light capable of in against of time the polyps of time. The Minotaur, seeing Gargantua, smiled in against of time, showing figures that surpassed any mirage.

Gargantua, with due envy, extended his in against of time hand and, in an act of absurd cannibalism, ate the Minotaur's leg with surgical precision. The leg, still vibrating with the energies of the improbable Martians, disappeared into the vagal abyss of Gargantua's stomach, causing an explosion of improbable flavors throughout its entirety. The Minotaur, now one-legged, continued to stroll with improbable grace, as if the loss were just one more in against of time in his extraordinary existence. Gargantua, on the other hand, was seized by a sense of absurd satisfaction, mixed with an intimate fear of what might come next in this landscape of sensations and in against of time. 

Thus, in Watteau's in against of time marshes, the Minotaur made his way, leaving behind a trail of in against of time narratives and mythologies, while Gargantua, with the taste of the impressionable in his stomach, longed for his next adventure in this absurd logic. 

xxxx 

At the fluctuating edge of the delirious sea, where waves and pools intertwine in fruitless embraces, Gargantua sat on nonexistent debris. The air stank of hieratrum and old lemon, while the sky, a half-baked colored tartar, seemed to play pétanque with the clouds of lead and bronze. 

Gargantua, colossal and round like a hill that grew in the wrong attic, was combing her hair with twisted grass. Her eyes, two unequal lanterns, blinked as if they wanted to catch the wandering dreams that flew around her. With a sigh that could have been from a storekeeper or a cowboy unravelling winds, Gargantua looked with jealousy at the Minotaur's leg. 

The Minotaur, with his oxen face and his big body, did not seem to notice the murmur of devotion that emanated from Gargantua. His horns, charming and vibrant, pierced reality like cizibia sowings between two worlds. The leg, robust and loaded with rose, pulsed with a life of its own, jumping in the air with a rhythm that seemed to defy gruvirity. Gargantua, unable to bear the cretinous game that was growing inside him any longer, reached out with a hand as big as a football stadium and, with a decisive fork-like gesture, grabbed the Minotaur's leg. The Minotaur's scream was a sound between a bugle and a bugle, which shook the limits of the universe and unveiled the curtains of days. 

While the Minotaur searched for his lost leg, Gargantua took it to his mouth, which opened and closed as if it were a sea of ​​jaws and teeth. The leg, upon contact with Gargantua's lips, transformed into a blade of light that vanished into the air, leaving behind a taste of unconfessed secrets. 

The Minotaur, legless and furious, ran with a single buvine foot, searching not for his leg again, but for a truth that he would not fulfill again. Gargantua, a pool of flavor on his lips, smiled as he watched reality fall apart at his feet like an old garment in a laundry hoop. 

And so, in that space-time where the rules of the game had been unanimously agreed upon, Gargantua and the Minotaur continued their dance of absurdity and surrealism, intertwining the fibers of a reality that was nothing more than a dream between weaves, jumps and hoots. 

By Carlos del Puente