on Tuesday, the Peruvian writer and Nobel prize for Literature Mario Vargas Llosa presented Five corners , its anticipated new novel, in the Spanish capital of Madrid.
the work, which will be sold in Latin America and Spain from Thursday, portrays the last days of the administration of former Peruvian President Alberto Fujimori and also criticizes journalism “yellow and gossipy.”
the Venezuelan newspaper National published, as advance, the first chapter of the new work of Vargas Llosa
first chapter of Five corners .
I . Marisa’s dream
Had awake or still dreaming? That warmth in his right instep was always there, an unusual feeling prickled whole body and revealed that she was not alone in that bed. Memories flocked to his head but were ordered as a crossword puzzle that slowly fills. They had been fun and a little tipsy from the wine after the meal, from terrorism to movies and social gossip, when suddenly, Chavela looked at the clock and got to his feet, pale: “The touch of remains! My God, no longer gives me time to get to La Rinconada! How time has passed us. ” Marisa insisted to stay to sleep with her. There would be no problem, Quique had gone to Arequipa by the board early morning in the brewery, they owned the Golf Department. Chabela called her husband. Luciano, always so understanding, said there was no objection, he would see that the two girls leave on time to catch the bus from school. Chavela to stay Nomás where Marisa, it was preferable to be stopped by a patrol if violated curfew. Cursed curfew. But, of course, terrorism was worse
Chavela went to sleep and now Marisa felt the sole of her foot on his right instep. Slight pressure, a soft, warm, delicate. How had it happened that they were so close to each other in the double bed so great that, seeing, Chavela joked: “But let’s see, Marisita, I want to say how many people sleep in this giant bed”? He recalled that both were lying in their respective corners, separated at least half a meter away. Which of them had slipped in both the dream for Chavela’s foot was now perched on his instep?
Do not dare move. Held his breath not to wake her friend, it was not to withdraw the foot and that feeling disappeared so pleasing that from his instep, expanded for the rest of his body and was tense and concentrated. Little by little was spotting, in the darkness of the bedroom, some slots light shades, the shade of the dresser, the closet door, the bathroom, the rectangles of the pictures on the walls, the desert with the snake Tilsa woman, camera with totem Szyszlo, floor lamp, Berrocal sculpture. He closed his eyes and listened: Stepped very weak but that was the breath of Chavela. She was asleep, perhaps dreaming, and she was then, no doubt, who had come in sleep the body of his friend.
Amazed, embarrassed, wondering again if she was awake or dreaming, Marisa took finally aware of what your body already knew was excited. That delicate sole heating his instep was on her skin and senses and, sure, if slid one of his hands by his crotch would find mojadita. “Have you gone crazy?” He said. «Aroused with a woman? Since when do, Marisita? “Had been excited alone often, of course, and he had also masturbated ever rubbed a pillow between your legs, but always thinking of men. She remembered with a woman Never, ever! However, it was now, trembling from head to toe and with a mad desire not only his feet but also their bodies touched and felt, like that vamp, everywhere the closeness and warmth of her friend.
Moving ever so slightly, with the hectic heart, simulating a breathing that seemed to sleep, tilted something, so that, while not touching her, warned that now was just millimeters from the back, buttocks and legs of Chavela. Best listened to his breathing and thought she felt a hidden mist emanating from that body so close, she reached her and wrapped. Despite herself, as if she did not realize what he was doing, very slowly he moved his right hand and laid it on the thigh of her friend. “Blessed is he curfew,” he thought. He felt his heart racing: Chavela was going to wake up, would withdraw the hand, “Get away, do not touch me, have you gone mad ?, what’s wrong.” But Chavela did not move and always seemed mired in a deep sleep. The felt inhale, exhale, had the impression that the air coming toward her, coming in through the nose and mouth and warmed her insides. At times, in the midst of his excitement, how absurd, I thought the curfew, blackouts, especially the kidnapping of Cachito- and bombs of terrorists. What a country, what a country!
Under his hand, the surface of the thigh was firm and soft, slightly damp, perhaps by perspiration or some cream. Had he thrown Chavela before bedtime any of the creams that Marisa was in the bathroom? She had not seen her naked; he reached a nightgown of yours, very short, and it was changed in the dressing room. When he returned to the room, Chavela already had on him; It was semitransparent, he left the air the arms and legs and a hint of cheek and Marisa remembered thinking, “What a beautiful body, how well preserved is despite his two daughters are his trips to the gym three times a week.” He had followed went really moving, always with the growing fear of waking her friend; now, terrified and happy, he felt that, at times, to the beat of their respective breathing, fragments thigh, buttock, leg of both brushed and instantly turned away. “Right now is going to wake up, Marisa, you’re doing crazy.” But not back down and was still waiting -what expected – as in trance, the next fleeting touching. His right hand was still perched on the thigh and Marisa Chavela realized he had begun to perspire.
That her friend moved. She thought her heart stop. For a few seconds he stopped breathing; He closed his eyes tightly, pretending to sleep. Chabela, without leaving the site, had raised his arm and now Marisa felt on his hand on the thigh of the former’s hand rested chabela. He is the going to withdraw with a jerk? No, on the contrary, gently, lovingly, Chavela would say, mingling their fingers with hers, now dragging hand with gentle pressure, always stuck to his skin, into his crotch. Marisa did not believe what was happening. He felt in the fingers trapped by Chavela hairs of a slightly raised pubis and soaked, throbbing cavity, against which it crushed her. Trembling from head to toe, Marisa tilted, he joined the breasts, abdomen, legs against the back, buttocks and legs of her friend, while his five fingers rubbing her sex, trying to locate her little clitoris, digging, separating those wet lips of her swollen sex anxiety, always guided by the hand of Chavela, which was also trembling, engaging your body, helping to tangle and merge with it.
Marisa buried her face in the mane of hair that separated with head movements, until you find the neck and ears of Chavela, and now kissed, licked and nibbled with relish, and without thinking of anything, blind with happiness and desire . A few seconds or minutes later Chavela had turned and she sought her mouth. They kissed hungrily and despair, lips first and then opening the mouth, mistaking their tongues, exchanging their saliva, while the hands of each detracted ‘I arranchaban- the other nightgown to be naked and tangled; They swung to one side and the other, stroking her breasts, besándoselos, and then the arms and bellies, while each bustled sex each other and felt throbbing in a timeless time, so infinite and so strong.
When Marisa, dazed, sated, felt helplessly, sinking into an irresistible dream, he managed to say that throughout this extraordinary experience that just happened neither she nor Chavela which seemed now seized by the sleep- had changed a word. When he plunged into a bottomless void he thought back to the curfew and thought he heard a distant explosion.
Hours later, when he awoke, the gray daylight entered the bedroom just sifted through the blinds and Marisa was alone in bed. Shame the shuddering from head to toe. Really all that it had happened? It was not possible, no, no. But yes, of course that had happened. Then he heard a noise in the bathroom and, frightened, she closed her eyes, pretending to sleep. He cracked open and, through the tabs, spotted Chavela dressed and groomed, about to leave.
-Marisita, a thousand pardons, I wake -the heard say, with the most natural voice world.
-What occurrence stammered, convinced that he was barely audible voice. You’re leaving now? Do not you want to take before breakfast
No, ‘said her friend’s heart: her if not her voice trembled and looked uncomfortable;? It was the same as always, without the slightest blush on the cheeks and a completely normal look, without a hint of malice or mischief in her dark eyes and black hair alborotado- something. I’m flying to reach the chiquitas before they go to school. Thanks for the hospitality. We call ourselves a little kiss.
He blew a kiss blown from the bedroom door and left. Marisa shrugged, stretched, almost to shrivel up but returned and covered with sheets. Of course this had happened, and the best proof of this is that she was naked and her wrinkled nightgown and a half out of bed. He lifted the sheets and laughed seeing the nightgown she had lent Chavela was also there, a lump near his feet. He came a laugh that was cut off abruptly. My God, my God. Did you feel sorry? Absolutely. What presence of mind of Chavela. Had she done things like that before? Impossible. They had known for so long, they had always told her everything, if Chavela had ever had an affair of this nature would have confessed. Or maybe not? Would it change because of this friendship? Of course not. Chabelita was her best friend, more than a sister. How would henceforth be the relationship between the two? Is the same as before? Now they had a huge secret to share. My God, my God, I could not believe what had happened. All morning, while bathing, dressing, eating breakfast, gave instructions to the cook, the butler and the maid, head flitted him the same questions: “Did you do what you did, Marisita?”. And what if Quique learned that she and Chavela had done what they did? Are you angry? Would you make a scene of jealousy as if he had betrayed a man? Do you tell him? No, never in my life, that should not know anyone else, what a shame. And yet about noon, when he arrived Quique de Arequipa and brought the pastitas consabidas of the Iberian and stock rocotos, as she kissed him and asked how he had fared in the directory of the brewery – “Well, well, gringuita we have decided to stop sending beers Ayacucho, no pays off, quotas asking us terrorists and seudoterroristas are ruining us “- she kept asking,” why Chavela did not make me the slightest allusion and went as if nothing had happened? Why it would therefore be foolish. Also because she was dying of shame, not wanting to give preferred understood and hide, as if nothing had happened. But what had happened, Marisita. Would you happen again or never? “.
he Was all week without daring to telephone Chavela, waiting anxiously for her to call. Thats weird! They had never spent so many days without being seen or talked. Or, perhaps, on reflection, it was not so strange: you feel as uncomfortable as she waited for Marisa and safe to take the initiative. Had he angry? But why. Chavela Was not that the first step? She had just put her hand on his leg, it could be something casual, involuntary, without malice. Chavela was he had taken her hand and made him touch her there and masturbate. What audacity! When it came to that thought came a mad desire to laugh and a burning in his cheeks that he should have put coloradísimas.
and spent the rest of the week, half-way, concentrating on that memory, without realize almost complying with the routine set by its agenda, Italian classes where Diana, tea aunt’s niece Margot finally married, two meals working with partners Quique were invitations with wives, the obligatory visit to his parents to tea, to the movies with her cousin Matilde, a film to which he paid no attention because that will not be removed instantly from head and sometimes still wondered if there would have been a dream . And that lunch with classmates and the inevitable conversation that she was only half on the poor Cachito, kidnapped nearly two months ago. They said that he had come from New York an expert from the insurance company to negotiate with the terrorists and rescue the poor Nina, his wife, was doing therapy to not go crazy. How would distracted that one of those nights, Enrique made love and suddenly noticed that her husband desentusiasmaba and said, “I do not know what happens to you, gringa, I think I’ve ever seen in ten years of marriage as watery. Will it be by terrorism? We sleep better. “
On Thursday, exactly a week after what had or had not happened, Enrique returned from the office earlier than usual. They were taking a sitting whiskey on the terrace, watching the sea of lights from Lima to his feet and talking, of course, the issue that haunted every household in those days, attacks and kidnappings of Shining Path and the Tupac Amaru Revolutionary Movement , blackouts almost every night by blasting electrical towers in darkness that left entire neighborhoods of the city, and explosions with terrorists awakened at midnight and dawn to Lima. They were remembering seeing from this same terrace, a few months earlier, ignited in the middle of the night on one of the hills contour torches forming a sickle and hammer, as a prophecy of what would happen if walkers winning this war. Enrique said that the situation was becoming unsustainable for businesses, security measures increased the costs of a like crazy, insurance companies wanted to keep raising premiums and, if the bandits out with his taste, would soon be Peru to the situation in Colombia where entrepreneurs, driven away by the terrorists, apparently were moving en masse to Panama and Miami, to run their businesses from there. With all that would mean complications, extra expenses and losses. And I was just saying “We may have to also leave us Panama or to Miami, love” when Quintanilla, the butler, appeared on the terrace, “Mrs. Chavela, ma’am.” “Pass me the call to the bedroom,” she said and, rising, heard Quique he said. “Tell Chavela I’ll call one of these days Luciano to see us four, gringuita”
When he sat on the bed and picked up the receiver, her legs were shaking. «Alo Marisita?” He heard and said, “Good thing you called, I’ve been crazy with so much to do and thought very early morning call”
‘I was in bed with a very strong flu Chabela- said. but already I’m doing. And miss you very much, sweetheart.
And I also Marsha ‘I replied. I think we’ve never spent a week without seeing each other right?
‘I call to get an invitation Chabela- said. I warn you not agree that tell me no. I have to go to Miami for two or three days, there is some trouble in the department of Brickell Avenue and only be arranged if I go in person. Come with me, I invite. I already have a ticket for the two, I’ve got free with the accumulated mileage. We leave on Thursday at midnight, we’re there Friday and Saturday and return on Sunday. Do not tell me not because I am angry to death with you, love
‘Of course I’ll walk, I said Marisa happy.; he felt that his heart would at any time by mouth. Right now is I’m going to tell Quique and if you put me any but divorce me. Thank you very much, sweetheart. Regal, royal, I love the idea.
He hung up the phone and sat on the bed still a moment to calm down. A sense of well-being, a happy uncertainty. That had happened and now she and Chavela would go to Miami next Thursday and for three days they would forget kidnappings, curfews, blackouts and all that nightmare. When reappeared on the terrace, Enrique made a joke: “He who laughs her alone, her iniquities he remembers. Can you tell why you shine like eyes? “. “Do not what I say, Quique” she flirted with her husband, throwing her arms around his neck. “Not even if you kill me I tell you. Chabela invited me to Miami for three days and I told him that if I do not give permission to accompany her, I divorce you.
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