That Time I Was Reincarnated as a Stone: Series
Chapter 3: The Nest in the Heights
As the creature carried me, he brought me close to his abdomen and tucked me into a pouch; yes, he had a pocket fused to his body, much like a kangaroo. It was then I realized: this planet is utterly bizarre.
He carried me for hours. From within the darkness of that pouch, I was blind, but with a mere thought, I projected myself outward once more. As the beast swung from branch to branch, my astral form drifted alongside him. I marveled at the passing trees—heavy with fruit and teeming with tiny insects, some of which bore a striking resemblance to those back on Earth.
We pressed on until we reached what appeared to be his nest. It was cozy enough, if a bit unkempt—though one can hardly expect a tidy home from a wild animal. It consisted of a modest bed of dried leaves and twigs, stocked with a few meager food reserves. The nest was perched high in the canopy, likely a sanctuary against the predators prowling below.
I spent several days there. He had dropped me on the floor like a piece of refuse, leaving me to watch his comings and goings. Occasionally, he would return with a kill to scavenge.
This creature—whom I named Viktor, for reasons I can’t quite explain other than a vague resemblance to a former colleague—began to play with me after a few days. It reminded me of the way otters obsess over a favorite pebble.
Once, he took me out for a “stroll.” Perhaps he sensed I was sentient, though it’s more likely he didn’t; I truly can’t say. He carried me to the very crown of a tree, and from that height, I beheld the sheer scale of the forest. This planet was majestic—dense, gargantuan, and untamed. There wasn’t a single trace of civilization. No smoke on the horizon, nothing. Only the heavy clouds rolling in, carrying a storm in their wake.
Viktor sensed the shift in the air and bolted back to his shelter. For a long while, the rain refused to let up. It was a deluge—a tempest so fierce it felt like a tornado. Eventually, our “house” was torn from its branch. We plummeted into the mud below.
I slipped from Viktor’s grasp, and a wave of desperation washed over me, as if I were saying a final goodbye to a dear friend. I could only watch as the rivers of sludge swept him away, leaving me behind, buried in the earth.
I thought: This is what happens when I let myself care. They always leave, or fate tears them away. It felt like the hollow ache of a breakup.
I was alone again. This time, I could see nothing; my vision was choked by the soil pressing down on me. Well, I suppose this is just how things go, I told myself. But there was a phantom pain in my chest—even though I had no chest to speak of. Sadness, it seems, is felt in the soul, even when you are nothing more than a miserable stone.
I don’t know how much time passed, but the runoff from the storm eventually unearthed me, and I saw the light of day once more. Viktor was nowhere to be found…
…"
–“Continue reading and experience the original text in Spanish at https://fictograma.com/. Join our open-source community of writers today!”–


