Las puertas estaban abiertas y ya no se cerrarán. 📷 (ES-EN)
Published on HivePostify by @avdesing · Mon Aug 24 2026
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Los años transcurren en el inmenso silencio del mármol olvidado, las flores ya marchitas y la falta de visitas. > The years pass in the profound silence of the forgotten marble, the withered flowers, and the absence of visitors.
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uK9B7dCNFms
Para escuchar mientras se lee la historia – To listen to whilst reading the story [Fuente]( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=td5s50PpWOg)
ENGLISH VERSION (click here!)
I don’t know how much time has passed; I can only feel the absence of the scent of the carnations my beloved left one day, a scent that mingled with the gentleness of his tears as they fell to the ground while he gazed at that piece of stone bearing my name, alongside two engraved dates. He never suspected that I was watching him from behind, touching his hair and his shoulders, whispering in his ear that I was all right, that I hadn’t suffered.
But I think he couldn’t hear me, or perhaps his weeping drowned out my voice, which was very soft, as subtle as a breeze that vanishes into the sky. But time and again he returned, to open the barred door that separated him from me by just a step. He spoke words that grew increasingly distant, or perhaps it was my soul that was growing ever farther away, but I could still feel the deep, sweet sound of his voice that had always enchanted me.
>The visits grew fewer and farther between as his appearance changed, and he always swore eternal love to me, but I could see that deep inside him, his soul was fading. I promised never to leave this place—not until he could be with me.
Years passed, though I don’t know how many, and I saw him less and less: distant, downcast, and forgotten. But he would always open and close the door that separated him from me by just a step; even though it became harder and harder for him to reach me, he always made an effort to be by my side for a moment.
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Her tears became choked back, she struggled to breathe, her hands were already trembling, but her gaze never wavered, always fixed on my name, the one thing she never forgot in her old age.
>Whenever she left, she always closed the door, until one day she left it open. I understood it was because of the moments of clarity she was experiencing, but I knew that next time she would remember, or perhaps not, but she would visit me.
Days passed, days that turned into years, during which the door remained open, and I saw no sign of her. Perhaps her memory had already failed her, and she no longer remembered me. That filled me with sadness—a deep sadness that weighed on my soul, yet I remained awake.
One day, in the distance, I saw him, like a mirage fading into the thick fog, like a promise, unable to draw near, but still managing to flash that smile that always makes me fall in love. It was just a quick, fleeting moment, as if he had truly seen me.
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>The door never closed again; he came to find me after that smile carried away by the breeze, took my hand, and pulled me out of my promise. I am no longer in this cemetery where I was forced to wait for him for so many years, years that were worth it, just like the long wait for our lives on earth to come together.
Now we wander through another world, one without sorrow or sadness, where his smile and the warmth of his hand accompany me wherever I go. Now we always look into each other’s eyes, those eyes that recognized each other from afar and fought to be together no matter what.
Cuanto tiempo ha pasado, no lo sĂ©, sĂłlo puedo sentir la falta de perfume en los claveles que mi amado dejĂł un dĂa, el cual se mezclo con la suavidad de sus lágrimas que caĂan al suelo mientras miraba ese trozo de piedra que mi nombre contenĂa, junto a dos fechas enclavadas. Jamás sospechĂł que detrás de Ă©l yo lo miraba, tocándole su cabello y sus hombros, diciĂ©ndole al oĂdo que estaba bien, que no habĂa sufrido.
Pero creo que no me escuchaba o tal vez su llanto acallaba mi habla, que era muy suave, tan sutil como la brisa del viento que desaparece en el cielo. Pero una y otra vez volvĂa, a abrir la puerta de rejas que a un paso de mĂ lo separaba. DecĂa palabras cada vez más lejanas o quizá lejana era mi alma la que cada vez más lejos estaba, pero aĂşn podĂa sentir el sonido grave y dulce de su voz que siempre me hechizo.
>Las visitas se espaciaban mientras su apariencia cambiaba, y siempre amor eterno me juraba, pero veĂa que dentro de Ă©l su alma se apagaba. PrometĂ nunca dejar este lugar, no hasta que Ă©l conmigo pudiera estar.
Los años pasaron, pero no sĂ© cuántos, cada vez lo veĂa menos, alejado, cabizbajo y olvidado. Pero siempre abrĂa y cerraba la puerta que a un paso de mĂ lo separaba, aunque cada vez le costaba más llegar, siempre hacĂa un esfuerzo para junto a mĂ un momento estar.
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Sus lágrimas se volvieron ahogadas, la respiración le costaba mantener, sus manos ya temblaban, pero su mirada nunca cambiaba, siempre puesta en mi nombre, del cual era lo único que no olvidaba en su edad avanzada.
>Al salir siempre la puerta cerraba, hasta que un dĂa la dejĂł olvidada, lo comprendĂ por los momentos de salud que pasaba, pero sabĂa que la siguiente vez lo recordarĂa o quizá no, pero me visitarĂa.
Los dĂas pasaron, dĂas que fueron años, donde la puerta quedĂł abierta, y su presencia no veĂa. Tal vez su memoria ya fallarĂa y de mĂ no se acordarĂa. Eso me llenaba de tristeza, una profunda que pesaba en mi alma, pero aĂşn seguĂa despierta.
Un dĂa a lo lejos lo vi, como un espejismo que se esfuma en medio de la niebla espesa, como una promesa, sin poderse acercar, pero si esbozar esa sonrisa que siempre me enamora. SĂłlo fue un momento rápido y fugaz como si me hubiera visto de verdad.
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>La puerta nunca se volvió a cerrar, él vino a buscarme luego de esa sonrisa que se llevó la brisa, me tomó de la mano y de mi promesa me extrajo. Ya no estoy en este panteón al que me obligue a esperarlo durante tantos años, años que valieron la pena como la larga espera para que nuestras vidas en la tierra se unieran.
Ahora recorremos otro mundo, uno sin penas ni tristezas, donde su sonrisa y la calidez de su mano me acompañan donde sea. Ahora nos miramos siempre a los ojos, esos que se reconocieron a la distancia y lucharon para estar juntos como sea.
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ENGLISH VERSION (click here!)
With this fictional story and photographs taken of mausoleums inside the San Miguel Cemetery, I’m participating for the first time in this community initiative, and I invite @jlinaresp and @issymarie2 to join in.
Thank you all so much for reading today; I send you my warmest regards. See you soon. Amonet.
Con esta historia de ficciĂłn y fotografĂas tomadas a panteones dentro del Cementerio de San Miguel, participo por primera vez de la iniciativa activa en la comunidad e invito a participar a @jlinaresp y @issymarie2.
Muchas gracias a todos por leerme el dĂa de hoy, les envĂo un gran saludo. Hasta pronto. Amonet.
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Todo el escrito es de mi autorĂa - The entire document is my own work. Todas las fotografĂas son de mi propiedad - All photographs are my property Separadores creados por mĂ en Photoshop - Separators created by me in Photoshop Traductor utilizado [Deepl.com](Deepl.com) versiĂłn gratuita - Used translator [Deepl.com](Deepl.com) free version
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Tags: #initiative#spanish#spookyzone#zde#horror#terrorwalk#zonadeescalofrio#fotografia#historiaoscura#fotorelato