The National Telepathy by Roque Larraquy

Author:Roque Larraquy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Charco Press
Published: 2025-01-13T13:10:46+00:00

The memory is stored in my brain like a piece of personal experience. It belongs to an Indian, one of my guests. I am caught up in an action being performed by the Indian, over which I have no control.

The experience is quite as astonishing as you can imagine.

I will not dwell on this.

It is this: he waits all afternoon for the fish to come to the surface. He was told that the river was muddy, but he came here to be alone. A snake slithers from a shrub and bites his hand.

The fear of the snake is my own, it is not part of the memory, but it swathes it like a film.

There is confusion. I know what is real and what is not. The coffee runs down my neck. The pain of the bite is still there, but not in my hand.

It occurs to me that the Indians have cursed me – me, who does not believe in any form of witchcraft. It is a mysterious way of presenting themselves to me and thereby validating their status as victims in this project. My generosity to them so far has been futile. They did not appreciate it. This is what I think, like some peasant farmer.

With no hiatus I am struck by another memory. In this one, I become aware that the Indian is female. I should have realised it with the first memory, since she urinated while she sat waiting for the fish to surface, but did so without touching herself, without distinguishing the act of urination from any other, nor did she think about her vagina over the course of the afternoon, which is unsurprising, so there was no record of it, and I did not feel it between my legs.

In this second memory, the vagina plays an important role.

The Indian is lying on the ground, half-asleep in the sun. Something of her dream filters through, figures superimposed on the landscape.

Two girls throw branches to wake her up. They want her to tell them how far it is to the swamp and tell them whether or not they should go. They are tiresome.

In response, the Indian spreads her legs and makes certain movements with her vagina.

Taking this as their answer, the girls head off to the swamp.

The exchange involves a degree of deliberate ambiguity which the Indians consider a form of politeness, since it absolves them of being reliable at all times.

Thibaud, I am here to tell you that a memory is not a static record of a series of phenomena, nor a narrative piece clearly distinct from others, but rather, as the Indians say, a fever in the body that warms the air.

Memory is decipherable because it is watered by other memories and subroutines of varying intensity and interval whose data allow for understanding. A large amount of information is obtained.

The information I acquired from this memory: when they did not want to speak, the Indians use their genitals to indicate time, distance and mood. The

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