Abducted. 
In Bogota, there is a spaceship, you may not believe it. Sure, attentive reader, think I'm crazy, but no, I'm not, are well who I am, what city I live, my logical-mathematical tautologies along well with my numbers and semantics are almost compendium satisfactory than a more or less amateur writer may be made, do not suffer from catatonia, or suffer a psychological disorder, perhaps a small pain in the pit of my stomach, my doctor says it is gastritis that I have a glass of warm milk at night, from time to time I am suffering a muscle, ligament, a tendon that is inflamed. I'm not the guy I was before, you never know who is aging, but until the day doing something routine your body complains, you're suffocated with a terrible stomach pain, that's when you realize that the years are beginning to regret that the mirror will not lie, that the package being launched in your abdomen is because your metabolism and can not take it all with the same speed. But getting old is not being crazy my friendly reader, is the natural law, there is going to death and because it is not so cataloged as one mad. So, if I confess that Bogota has a spaceship, do not read with sympathy , read with the seriousness that I'm asking at this moment, at least try to have a little faith to what I have to confess, then draw your own conclusions. I did not think so at first I had trouble, I used to go there with the same desire with which some came, I used to lose whole days there, but now I can not pass through the center, I get a panic attack, reach the Candelaria is dangerous for my health.
happens that the ship of which I speak is located on a large block. I'll say it once: around the center of the Candelaria district is an enormous building unlike any other, is not ancient or modern, is a huge box cast in marble, its size becomes a monumental minimalist postmodernism in short, is not exaggerating at all, is simply a large mole that is raised above the center of the Candelaria, is a rectangular color volume that rises above all other clay tile roofs that sector of the city.
At this point the story had suspected that I speak of the Luis Angel Arango library, and really I'm crazy, but no. Just try to believe a little of me, a little faith. If I hear this from just anyone, but of course, to cause me sympathy, think of the imagination of this man, but I can not do that, because it turns out that people think I am exactly that idea, I have discovered that Luis Angel Arango Library is a spaceship. The ship itself is cold inside, is like a cream-colored rock of marble, is a cave, from which one enters a room is entered artificial, transparent, even the air we breathe in is one, as speak, of a purity so rare.
It has been said to go into a library creates a different environment, the atmosphere of respect for silence, but here things are different, the silence is a presence that inhabits the conversations that occur between rooms the ship, he so comfortably inhabits every room of the ship that the talks are stagnating and welcome to murmurs that do not affect at all the elegance of the place. There are large windows that allow to explain the city to see, appreciate, is beautiful above all, watch the orange sunsets that fall off of the brick buildings with fire and bounce against the eastern hills. See rain is amazing, majestic in short, when a storm is crumbly, you can hang from the huge windows to listen to the allegation of rain rushing furiously on the pavement, is wonderful to see that flood, those great rivers of heavenly wrath slipping through the glass guarding the ship.
Indeed in this sense, one could say that in my story and there is some sense, there are at least a trope, a comparison, an image and that of course no doubt and it is wrong to compare the library a ship when one realizes this kind of travel that gives the building to anyone, there's the spectacular journey through the books, but no, forget that, who is left mesmerized by these lures you can admit that he is lost or at least that has been abducted.
do not seek to persuade anyone equal, this ship so far has not killed or done damage that can be taken as a threat to the humanity, only abductions, abductions fantastic.
know several people who have been abducted and now belong to the universe unusual about this ship.
To think I'm going to describe , maybe one day you find you read and know what to do.
I will start by describing the first abductee: This is a man who is more or less between 35 or 40 years to recognize it right away just enough to remember the amulet has always hanging neck, is a canine I've never known what it is, is too large to be of any known animal and apparently from a pure ivory. If someday you get to run into a long-haired man carrying a closed collar shirts, who walks always staring and never being read but sitting by reading or walking with a desire to nowhere between the living room and showing his fangs on the chest, you can then In short, rest assured it is the character in question, this is the first abductee. The man lived near the Javeriana, was the uncle of someone I used to walk from the university to the library, is now a body of the ship. You no longer have niece and since he was abducted always goes quiet, eager to somewhere, they did not know the ship but apparently left him badly.
There is another, this is a guy 25 years young, she's always in search of a model for his charcoals, in fact the boy had talent, I used to read many old newspapers, had a passion for the archive and is sometimes seen taking photographs by stealth, he would smile and from time to time you saw someone taking a coffee in the cafeteria on the first floor, but now lives between the between-room, never enters the reading rooms and became a silent stalker that women bear because they perceive in their melancholy face insurmountable, incurable. Live drawing, drawing drawing, but what we did with pleasure now before it does so with reluctance and his portraits always end be a terrible thing, not like women and end up staying just waiting for another you want to be drawn. His strokes have changed a lot, before I had a technique, now looks more like a Picasso cataleptic with Parkinson syndrome. What else they have done on this ship, that rarest experiments.
For example, a balding bearded madman who spends a sack that has curious elbow, is hung a camera and taking pictures passes to Raymond and the entire world, well it was, was very funny, he always had a strange mania for finding friends and their trap, the object of seduction was the camera.
But now is another sad, it passes between the halls, cursing, usually around like crazy, gets up, people uncomfortable, angry shouts and leaves, often complain much time on the fourth floor, in the large internal balcony overlooking absorbed polyhedral architecture crystals that strain his dream clouds pass in front, the man stands there, staring into emptiness, like wanting to jump to the first floor, is scary, because suddenly turns and begins to strange things to say first that is. Sometimes he looks comfortable in the chairs with his long face of Woody Allen degenerated inconsolable crying. I wonder what they did. The pattern is the same, all abducted becomes part of the inventory of the ship and its classification is in melancholy, are serious studies are not based on theories that hoard millions and millions of books. decided to abduct humans to know something is up and complete a wonderful studio. I mean, this beautiful book "Anatomy of Melancholy, indeed, it is as if these people were a chapter each, a book that otherwise maybe I should carry the name of" Comments on "Anatomy of blues "or better yet:" Dictionary of nostalgia, "I do not know.
Some of the abductees living in the ship, there is an old, very strong, before he could see her beautiful blue eyes and youthful, he looked not yet accustomed to English, to laugh because he is always forgetting her purse somewhere and someone used to collect, ment since they began to experiment with it , go with big black glasses, seeks to maximize the minimum of physical contact and always live the verge of a nervous breakdown. Clutching his bag of garbage where bears all their belongings day and night walks through the halls, indeed this woman always carries his bag of treasures like the only thing left in your life. She lives on the ship, in the morning he looks out of the bathrooms shiny.
do not know what they want from us, the ship is still there, static, still, slipping between us, studying us, someday the earth will shake, the statue of Artemis warrior comes to life and seal the large iron door, the ship will begin to rise over the city until forever taking away all our sorrows and our most intelligent beings that they had to act to avoid detection.
not to tell you, I really think this is a matter of Martians.
