Short stories of a long journey

Month: February 2016

  • When am I going to die, momma?

    When am I going to die, momma?

    When am I going to die, momma? Oh, my child… what would you say, if I told you that for you darling, it’s going to take a long time! Walkabout          Route 9, Jujuy, Argentina The years go by; like the mileposts on the highway, they turn into a succession, which ‒passing right…

  • Can the bad ones become good ones, momma?

    Can the bad ones become good ones, momma?

    Can the bad ones become good ones, momma? Ay my darling, it’s easier to cook a sancocho without broth nor yuccas! The girl felt the tears overflow ‒sliding softly‒ as if caressing her hot, flushed face‒,     while in her mind a torrential cascade of images followed one after another, in a fluid and…

  • The bad ones never die, momma?

    The bad ones never die, momma?

    The bad ones never die, momma? They die darling, only they they’re so busy with their wrongdoing, they take longer.     Without any doubt, Bucaramanga’s traditional cemetery is the Central Cemetery. The main access to the cemetery is on 45th street. And it’s a portal with a lively canary-yellow façade, decorated with white ledges.…

  • Why do the good ones die, momma?

    Why do the good ones die, momma? Because they get tired of so evil things that the bad ones do to them, darling Pensive, she hung up the phone. The three had been through many problems together. On different occasions they had visited the Office, where the hateful Disciplinary Coordinator, Miss Mercedes Cardona, unfortunately knew…

  • And why are they so sad, momma?

    And why are they so sad, momma?

    And why are they so sad, momma? Because the good ones die and the bad ones keep on running around.   Miss Rosario had a lifetime serving as a teacher; she had performed as the Social Science Professor, for more than thirty of the seventy-eight years of her long life. Pious (and maybe a bit sanctimonious) with a…

  • And why do the angels cry, momma?

    And why do the angels cry, momma?

      Speechless, she heard her friend narrating the death of Miss Rosario. The ossuaries          Bucaramanga City Cemetery, Santander. Colombia She was no more, no less, her favorite teacher. She was more than a teacher: on occasions she was their councilor, always tenderly trying to guide them by the right path. The…

  • Why does it rain so much, momma?

    A rainy day          Popayán El Cauca, Colombia   Why does it rain so much, momma? It’s the angels, Darling. They’re crying.  In the fog         Chipre, Manizales, Caldas, Colombia At ten o’clock in the morning the temperature was twenty-four degrees, and it rained. For the beginning of February,…

  • The games we play

    Contemplation          Panama city, Panama.   This is not decided by us, nor by God or his Angels. The last ride         Granada City, Granada Province, Nicaragua It is Life’s retaliation, the third protagonist in the Theatre of Existence. For he has never seen eye to eye along with…

  • Engraved into our skin

    Shared moment            Ibarra, Imbabura, Ecuador   But, to some of us, it may come to pass that in our life, we run into an event, not even Time can erase. Sunset in the highland          Carretera a Potosí, Potosí, Bolivia   Almost like a tattoo, it’s so…

  • The vision of a woman

    A rustic landscape   Renacer Hostel, Villa de Leyva, Boyacá. Colombia Amelia appeared. So silently that I never noticed her arrival. I saw her before me, a vision of the most beautiful woman; with a beer in each hand and a smile on her lips. She offered me one of the beers, and immediately after from…