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Cuando el de la cámara debería llevarse la medalla…
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Bleeding crown
Deep inside the hallway, in a cell carved from the wall, a man suffered hunger. The place had dim light and it wasn’t impossible to pass by without noticing. And only those with an audience would roll by that hallway. That’s when, sometimes, you might notice his eyes looking at you and his protruding bones under the mocking purple velvet. I hated the hallway. I hated the audience hall. To the most, there was this person whom I wanted to burn to ashes, among all those dead just picked flowers and gold and carvings. The elders said it was awe of god but… What awe can be there with despair?…
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This place is dead anyway
Soft, smooth, and lullaby like, vibrated her voice in the bar. Gretchen kept on singing to Kore’s sax and Will’s piano. This was a one night jig to replace the Sly painted bistro’s singer: Naomi. Of course, the place was almost crowded with the ennui of cemeteries. Gretchen was struggling to meet ends this month. She was waiting by day at Pepe tacos and selling Maybelline the weekends. With the historical tip of one unit (fill in with your local currency) miserable bill all month and two gloss’ tubes sale. Worse than pathetic. So, here she was, trying to sing her best with a voice that was beautiful but jiggly-puff…
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Dungeon&tonic
And so, some archimage got drunk and confused his drink, with one of those things worthy of inhabiting the dungeon dimension. The big glass of gin and tonic got eyed by multiple eyes in a body, eyes shared by bodies and smelled by bodies without eyes. You know. The dungeon dimension is generally filled by tentacles. Of all these monsters, there were two who were bigger and meaner. They actually took a sample of that strange thing that had made it to their place. That got the dungeon dimension to get blurry and distorted enough for the first tentacle to scurry off and enter a different universe. One in which…
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The price is fright
Shuffle, shuffle and take one card away. I am the insider, and the word: «fright». Roger is to my right, Leslie to my left and the twins Katy-Kenneth in front. Katy is the master. She swallows. She has seen the card too. It didn’t had numbers or words as usual. It had a tiny character robed in black with its metal aimed to itself. Katy: I am the master, you might start now. She turns the hourglass and our time runs out by the grain.Leslie: is it food?Roger: is it a person?Katy doubts because of the anthropomorphic guy but thinks hard on the word and denies. I sweat cause there…
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The skelephone
Madame Trudeau insisted. Everything in the room had to be as pristine as a dew drop. The windows had to be so transparent birds might crash against them. What for if the sessions were at night and with all the drapes on? Not that I knew what those sessions were for. I wear the black dress with the white apron since five morning and scrub. Scrub the floor until it was like a mirror. Scrub the windows until bird corpses fell on the small orchard filled with grenades and peaches. Dust the bric-a-brac of different shapes like cats, dogs, horses and humans. There’s even a castle. Behind this garbage, there’s…
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Don’t touch it. It is mine
It was bright,It smelled like pine.It was fine till dawn didn’t come back. You won’t know,Cause you’re deaf.You can’t know,Cause you close your eyes. Mine got to.By lies.Political affairs.A short speech and bye. Left to survive,Left to kill a little of me.A day, an hour, a life. For sure those in wealth.No passport, no crime.I’m not registered to your moral in sight .Man, a knife.Seal it.For it was a crime.
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Scary tales
Winter is here! Yep, winter. Do you have any idea what is life like for me in summer? I spend days tugged inside a metal cabin; sweating a lot in an over 40°C place, suffocating of humidity. Isn’t it the right weather to pass away? And I don’t. Today too, I better get myself in that cabin…. Yes, I hate it. I’d prefer being naked at the beach. I turn around and my twi… Okay. I’ll say it. We aren’t twins. We’re Siamese. There’s a thin line of skin keeping us together and our head. It is hard to sever it because it has a lot of thin veins running…
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El bloqueo del escritor
Definitivamente en los apartamentos de revisión, Segway de auto publicación, autobús anónimo, abc de la frustración y en el camión de las ideas basura… ¿Tú?
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¿Dónde está?
Bien escrito
Ash como me choca que mi marido pregunte a dónde voy y a qué hora regreso…
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A brunch with a banshee
This is uncomfortable. I’m the only one eating. She is staring at my rare steak with what I’ll call hunger. She spent all day in the office, quiet as a mouse and now we’re here in a three stars restaurant (only crazy people pay for the air they’re served), and she won’t eat. My date with this long haired beauty is going nowhere if we can’t have a decent conversation. I’m the only one whose tongue is in service and it’s already been 20 minutes. I know, most men can monopolize a conversation just to try and IMPRESS the girl, but that’s not good at all. I suddenly go quiet too. Is…
