The lights

We continue with the publication of the micro-stories of the first edition of the competition: High Altitude StoriesWe let you enjoy with "Las luces", by Fernando Ruiz Pérez.

The lights

-by Fernando Ruiz Pérez-

Two little boys were looking at the sun. From the refuge of La Carihuela, the valley of Granada, two thousand metres lower, is overlooked, and a sunset seen from above was a novelty for both of them.

The fat man was talking about life, as he always did when they went out into the bush:

- And, fuck, I'm sick of it all coming together. Most of all, I'm sick of being the asshole who has to stop every year because the doctor tells him he's sick.

The skinny man, perhaps aware that no words would help, kept silent. He was the one who had dragged him to the Sierra that time.

Behind the hill of Mulhacén, to the east, the moon rose. Enormous. Brilliant. Two giants with their own particular light.

The fat man burst into tears.

The skinny man put an arm around his shoulders. The fat man sobbed through his snot:

- How can it be so beautiful?

The skinny man persisted in his embrace.