La espía / José Antonio Ramos Sucre

The Spy

     The graduate writes a short novel of equivocations and unforeseen cases, occupying the delays of a court where he passes sentence, poorly remunerated and idle.

     The graduate doesn’t spend the night in the city, but rather in the outskirts. He retires to a house with long passageways and solemn chambers, covered in whitewash, crouched in an anonymous village. The ingenuous locals notice the unpleasantness of its facade.

     The graduate recovers from the tedium inventing quarrels and misfortunes. He imagines the yearnings and accusations of lovers and records them in indelible letters. He reclines, once in a while, the forehead made of parchment, full of memories, in his right hand. He prolongs the task until morning’s approach, under the dim waxen light.

     The graduate abandons the pen just as dawn reveals its face like a ruddy-cheeked girl.

     He proceeds to the adornment of his person in front of a Lorena mirror, of faded splendor, and when he retires the grey hairs, he observes at his back the astute skeleton of death.




Las formas del fuego (1929)




{ José Antonio Ramos Sucre, Obra completa, Caracas: Biblioteca Ayacucho, 1989 }