the bard and its reflection

8/14/2019 THE BARD AND ITS REFLECTION

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The bard and its reflectionMiguel ngel Mendaro Johnson

From A to B might be a story


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Thanks Sarita!

Free edition.

Title:: The Bard and its reflection.Autor: Miguel ngel Mendaro Johnson.

Copyright: 2009 Miguel ngel Mendaro Johnson.www.mendaro-es.com

Cover & illustrations by: Miguel ngel Mendaro Johnson.Translation supervised by Sarah Brown.

All rights reserved. Material protected.
http://www.mendaro-es.com/http://www.mendaro-es.com/


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A

Do you really think that The Bard and its reflectionis...? How can I say it...?The right title?

Liliana waited for some sign of humour in the eyes of Joseph's gloomy colleague,publisher, and agent, a vulgar and ordinary bloodsucker. Noting that he was serious, thathe was not joking, that he had cornered her in his office at the end of the day just tolaugh at the title of her new novel, she snapped aggressively:It's perfect, honey. Bard. A lyric poet.

I know what a bard is; but no, the title its far from perfect. Who will read a book witha title so....vague? Not even with a glorious violent cover will you be able to capture the

attention of a potential reader. Knowing how difficult the fucking book market is, evenputting a photo of quartered corpses, we couldnt sell a single novel... he scratched hishead, contemplating a horrifying picture. Well, maybe it might work if theres a lot of

blood ... No! Stop!He shouted pounding the table, because even then, there's still that incomprehensible...

novel of yours!!

I dont need readers, or recognition. That book represents the total of everything I havebarfed up in the last eight months. I'm rotten.

Thats true. But what you 'barfed up' sucks, especially if it's yours. I mean it. If youdont find a good title, we wont make money. Do you remember exactly who pays you,Liliana? Its called a contract and you? Comply with it. You? Are just a product. Actlike it .And while we're at it, what were you thinking when you wrote that? It's a realmess... a timeless mess; I dont find any sense of it anywhere, there's no logicalstructure, there's...

You know what, Joseph? she interrupted, turning to her silent boyfriend.What?You disgust me.He was silent.His boss, however, kept shouting.

And you are a raving lunatic!!. Oh please... The bard and his reflection?


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That was it.Liliana stood up abruptly. She took the glass of whiskey that moments before Josephhad served her as a courtesy, and pouring it on the floor, she emptied it of liquidretaining the ice inside. (Fifteen euros poured in the carpet Joseph must have thought.)Then she lifted her skirt, lowered her panties to her ankles and lifted the glass between

her legs, positioning it in the inner and upper thighs, urinating in the glass. Half filledwithout spilling a single drop with insuperable perfection. The astonished Joseph had tolaugh in self defence.Fucking crazy.This is all you get. Your whiskey is real shit. You won't find another better distilled orserved than this... Take it or leave it.Fucking crazy!I insist, dear.Joseph figured (having read all of Liliana's novels from cover to cover) that she wasnow out of control. He got up and walked to the rack where he had hung his coat.

Gazing silently at her, he began to put it on. Liliana strode over, holding the glass ofurine towards him, removing the ice that melted slowly. She looked right at him,outraged. Joseph worked up the guts to try to leave the impending brawl without aword.Suddenly she threw the liquid in his face.You bastard!

She grabbed a pen and stuck it in his chest. She twisted it. Joseph did not...

Carla stopped quickly, as if she had just noticed a traffic light change suddenly to red.

She stopped typing, somehow paralyzed and a bit frightened by what she just hadwritten:"Pee in a cup? No way! Too bold and... vulgar. And... kill my Joseph? You're crazy!She thought laughing.

She realised she was taking revenge for what she had actually experienced the nightbefore. Everything in her short text was true, except that she was not Liliana and Josephwas still alive and that under no circumstances she would pee in a cup as she had just so

perfectly described. The only real thing was her brand new novel and its brand newrecent failure: "The Bard and its reflection." And when the title had provoked the

laughter of his obnoxious colleague earlier that morning, Joseph had withered.

Carla stood up to go to the bathroom. She needed to cool off, remove all her unwantedevil thoughts. However, when she was looking in the mirror she smiled: Liliana... dirtyLiliana, what a slut you are. You peed in a cup. It's time for fun, shall we play?


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B

Liliana was a simple pretext. An imaginary accomplice. A recreation. Herrelief.Carla, master puppeteer, in front of the computer was giving life to her new creature,equipping her with arms and legs, eyes and mouth; trivial aspects with which a writer

has to accomplish with for those who wanted to read her. And with each line describingher, Carla dressed her with a gorgeous body. However, my Carla was a skinny womanwith inert and charred eyes by the light of the computer. Liliana was endowed of allthat she did not have with regard to physical and a wicked and twisted mind, able tourinate in a cup and then murder. Seemed like a perfect being lit by a full moon,shedding tears as a terrible defect inside corroded her: When Liliana contemplates herreflection, she saw the demonic and despicable of her spirit.

Alter ego.

Carla thought. Yes, my alter ego.And the simple idea of a deplorable novelist that could write what she wanted with nostrings attached, no rules, helped Carla to feel consummate. After all, she was herandme, both.

Tomorrow urgently Carla thought that it will be good if she met with Joseph to settlecertain issues which urged to treat. She opened her browser and went straight to heremail account. She typed her password, Valjean, and once inside, wrote the followingemail:

Dear Joseph,

I disagree on what we discussed about my new novel.The Bard and his reflection is a novel with a broad andambiguous horizon. However, hundreds of ideas gotrough my mind and I would love to treat them with you.A new book is underway. Tomorrow, if thats ok withyou, I'll drop by your office.

Regards,

Carla.


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She left the computer exhausted. Regards? I know that son of a bitch for so manyyears. How disgusting manners and formalities can be sometimes, she said. Then shewent to the bathroom. Sitting on the toilet she saw her reflection in the mirror used towatch her whole figure when she was trying on a new dress and fantasized the

impression she could cause. But the truth is that few dresses appropriately girded onCarla.

It took some time to release the urine by relaxing her body. Accidentally a fart cameout. She laughed and looked at her reflection: Will you dare to tell this, Liliana?Asked imagining that inside the mirror was her new creature. Your new novel willshine naturally. You have to mislead, entangle, and above all, be dirty ... dirty!

Libert!

the bard and its reflection

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