Tuesday, December 6, 2016

Through the window - (The draft of a tale, located in the woods).





There is a dim light pouring its shine over the table's plastic cover. I can see an old lamp with dark yellowish crystals evoking a familiar dining room at a cottage located in a dried mountain's slope.

The acid light imbues the walls, and the flowering plant boldly shows me its ceramic belly swallowing the joy of looking. It doesn't let me see the floor. Right now this is a dark bitter tea lagoon.

There are three little princess figurines made of ceramic on the table. they exude a sinister appearance, like those of mannequins founded in abandoned amusement parks whose cold eroded bases are covered by vegetation and 90´s newspapers. Their conversation is a silent conspiracy. They know I am looking. I am not looking at them anymore, I am scared.




Tuesday, October 11, 2016

I Don't know what to write



Ok, this is the second post. Let's start with an extremely hot day for spring´s second week. My shirt was stained so I couldn't take my sweater off. It is just a little stain, but I hate that a one color shirt  (no stripes nor squares at all) displays a stain, no matter how little this could be that taint will call the attention distracting anybody who wants to start a conversation with me.

You'll see, there are two office buildings at work, one a little bit far from the other, not too much just 26 feet. The problem was that I am working on the third floor of the building A, but my manager works on the third floor of building B, this means that each time I want to show him something or talk about some campaign detail I have to take the stairs, eighty steps, (40 from building A, and 40 from building B*), and I have to use my zazen breathing techniques to avoid sweating. (By the way, I always fail terribly).


Anyway, my other shirts are already dry (thankfully to the same sun that made me sweat in the morning) so I hope tomorrow I fell fresher and also I don't have to jaunt six times for nothing more than a signature.


Footnotes


*The steps in building B are really 41.

Monday, October 10, 2016

One

There is a small chance this will be read. Considering this and starting from this moment I feel free to reveal my thoughts and feelings to anybody who is in search of a short tale or story. I do this as a mental exercise, to practice my skills to write, maybe even as a way to start a good conversation. 

Please notice this stories might be real, based on real events or totally fictional. Also, this entries might be written in English or Spanish. There is no particular order. But I will try to do it in English most of the time.  You can contact me at any time. 

Hasta pronto.

Writing Within

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