(Spanish Version) If her phone stopped ringing, Nora knew it was because something had gone wrong. At the culture center where she worked, everyone depended on everyone. Projects were developed on the move, passing from hand to hand so that no one could be blamed for an eventual disaster. She loved the arts and admired …
Tag Archives: fiction
The Uncles Table
(Spanish Version) A little over a year after my mother lost her fight against cancer, Uncle Arnie moved permanently into our home. He was my mother’s younger brother and had also been my father’s point of entry into the family. My uncle and my old man met in completely ordinary, teenage circumstances, becoming best friends …
2 Rooms
(Spanish Version) “On more time, Gaspi. We need you to look here, ok?”. The boy nodded, showed his gapped tooth smile and posed badly again. The photographer sighed in frustration, giving a nod to the boy’s mother to come and talk to him; Claudia lifted him off her skirt and handed him to his mother. …
The Personal
By Lucas Rodríguez Schwarzenberg (Spanish version) The Personal Trainer left the radio on the grass and pressed Play. He walked away from it while clapping to the rhythm of what was beginning to sound, a polyrhythm of polynesian drums intertwined with noises that can only be found inside a synthesizer, ambushed every four bars by …
The Scorer
By Lucas Rodríguez Schwarzenberg (Spanish version) Nico took off his wet T-shirt and hung it from one of the side rails, then tapped his pecs a couple of times, trying to match the rhythm of the song that was playing in his head. When he opened a side pocket of his sport bag, he noticed …
Empty Spaces
By Lucas Rodríguez Schwarzenberg (Spanish version) That night shouldn’t have had anything weird at all. I was chilling, turning the PS4 on, getting that last slice of Papa John’s pizza. Taking the product for a try in a slow and quite fashion. I saw the smoke go up to the roof with those snake-like twists …
Espacios Vacíos
Por Lucas Rodríguez Schwarzenberg (English version) Esa noche no debería haber tenido nada de raro. Yo estaba piola, prendiendo el Play, cortándome el último pedazo de una pizza del Papa Juan. Quemando tranqui para probar el producto. Veía el humo subir hacia el techo con esas vueltas como de serpiente que se va dando en …
Tres páginas y media 