I didn’t believe in ghosts and ghost didn’t believe in me. Or at least it didn’t use to…. Until last week. A month ago, I was taking a bath. It was one of those long, long baths with bubbles and salts and candles. So I was there, totally relaxing from a busy day with tons of reservations because of the Ghost and religions conference in the Blue Hall of the hotel I work at, when someone… Well, I’m not sure they’re people. So, I was there, relaxing with eyes closed and the Schubert’s mass in g Benedictus, wondering if the black or the purple vibrator would be better than the…

The burning smell told her the Zodiac grinder had spelt its last moments. She watched the light of the ceiling sparkling to the power of a sudden electricity burst. Was this all? No! For disgraces come in three. Everybody knows that. Just this morning she remembered the last night she had to grind teeth because her wife had taken the remaining powder for going to curse a new born. But she had felt to tired, she had gone to sleep. Her wife was still sleeping the hangover… Now, she had no powder to fly and no food processor to grind. She peeked through the mouse hole that was their door.…

Step, step, step.Something at my heels.I can’t reach the door.Inside, with no probable cause.Trapped mouse. Mirror, mirror,Hanging on the wall;Can you tell why is the house derailed? One, two, three downstairs,Into underground mistakes,A cobweb shawl of regrets. The closet pervaded by evil,Inside the corpse of my lad.Where shall we try,That new axe I despair?

About to chime,About to tell,How much I’ve lazed.Aye, no big name myself.Standing there,The midnight bells.The bells that ring at midnight their spell.

The rest of the room is in darkness. The only light there is the screen of the computer.His face is ragged. There’s dark under  his eyes and there’s a prickly stubble. Plus, he has a ketchup stain on the hoodie, almost a part of the brown fabric and invisible therefore, but still there. A message comes into the screen and a girl he doesn’t know, with the funny nickname of  Mortgage asks: tabla? Mister System Debt, with one or two aficionado trophies in his bookshelves, sneak peaks into this gal’s profile. He sees nothing but men in swimming suits and thongs. Oh, and her age. She wasn’t born by the…

The stars spin around me while the engine’s silence tells me I’m going to die. And it seems like my fall goes as slow as the snow flakes coming with me to the ground. I close my eyes and see myself driving a lorry to Florinda? Anyplace as long as it is warm. I’m just done with the swamp like weather of my city. Nine months a year in the mud and the rest in the cold, and there’s no shoe that will survive long. The fuselage is clean, without a single  shell in it. Yet the motor has gone off completely. I saw it from a corner of the…

Tlic, tlac, tloc. Plop. The rain falls from the roof on the camellias whilst she waits. Her big hay hat to cover her face when she delivers the meat.Inside the room, she knows of the blood and bodily fluids. Of her timed pain. She had done the same once. Screams and grunting and finally silence. That woman was strong. It had taken her a while to recover enough to recover her freedom. It had been enough for the thing to start crying. So pitiful. This time, the chief came out soon, her hands in blood.—Was the child returned to the heavens?— asked Shinji.—She did but she used her green belt…

To the right of the main street, on a short alley that looked like the moon, were the doors to Hell. And since that was the name of the saloon, we jokingly would say things like «Let’s go to Hell» those afternoons when there was nothing else to do but lull the afternoon with a beer on hand and paly darts or «Come with us to Hell» to our cousins from the city or … «Why do you think I work for? To go to Hell, of course». To this joke, my grandmother, a respectable and  gray haired woman on her 70s whom always went to mass, would raise an…

Outside the chubby lavender villa, there was this reddish guy admiring the «On sale» board. He would press a cotton handkerchief on his nose from time to time until he wheezed like an old toy and entered the house. Inside, an smell to old decaying money was beginning to stench. Enrico placed his hand on the stairs rail and reacted immediately. He had left his hand in a negative imprinted mark. He took off the handkerchief again and cleaned his hands. Upstairs, there was this room with beautiful birds painted all over the walls and furniture. A tiny fat prune was looking at him with a lot of interest from…

Matins. They woke up and it wasn’t there. The body wasn’t there anymore! Fray Gère looked up to the eyes of Fray Dejan who made one of those faces. Fray Gère put his hand inside the coffin. Sometimes, when you think you have lost your quill sharpener, it appears exactly in the same pocket you might swear it was before you lost it. Mysteries of the devil, holy mother of god. No, the coffin was still as empty as it seemed to him before. Fray Dejan didn’t say a word but made a gesture inviting Fray Gère to follow him. They went out of the catacombs through a spiral staircase…