This is my most popular story. It’s about music, and nothing to be afraid of. It was actually the first … More
Category: Short Stories
Connected
It wasn’t the treads’ fault. It was the people controlling them. Mind control. There was no escape. The treads were everywhere, connected to every mind, every thought, every heartbeat.
Milka opened the door.
-Come in, he said. -Fast!
He looked down the street. Up the street. Then closed the door.
-Are you OK? Tanker looked at him with a worried frown. His friend had always been nervous by nature, but he acted strange.
-I’m perfect! Milka guided Tanker in to the living room. -Do you feel it?
-Feel what? Tanker looked around the room. Suddenly he realised what it was. The treads were different. They didn’t tell him what to do. He looked at Milka with big, scared eyes. -What did you do?
Misplaced
There were people everywhere. They were walking hastily over the strange area. He’d never seen so many people in his … More
Rio Tinto
This story is based on a real event that occurred in Huelva, Spain 4. February 1888 and the same area during … More
The Old Man Who Knew (audio narration)
There was a great carpet dwelling above the world. Inside it. Around it. It was conscious, yet not intelligent. Awake, but it did not think. One, a spectre of selves, everywhere and nowhere. No one knew how it worked, not even itself. It was pure observation. It knew, but did not calculate. It felt, but did not care. It was existence. Reality. Nothing more. Nothing less.
The old man sat by the window, looking out on the valley he’d lived in all his life. He knew everything about that valley. Every little rock, every old tree stump. He loved the valley. It was the best place on Earth for him…
Sketchy Business
Gerog came home from work, threw his bag in a corner and went out on the porch. He sat there for a while, listening to the silence. He loved silence. His note pad was lying on the table, he must have forgotten it outside yesterday. Lucky it didn’t rain. He made a little sketch. A sketch of a man with a big head and strange hair.
The phone rang. He went inside to pick it up. Wrong number. He grabbed a soda from the fridge and went back out. He looked at the note book. The sketch was gone.
That’s strange… He said out loud. He went through the pages, maybe the wind had turned them. Nothing.
Looking for me?
Gerog opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. His sketch was sitting on the fence, smiling at him….
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