Stiletto

I’m glad to tell you that one of my short fiction has been included in Albis Anthology. My apologies but all the fictions are in Spanish.

From all part from the county, people came in silence. There was no celebration, no songs, no reception in honour of me. There was no need to tight her because she just sat down waiting for the beast, waiting for me. I looked at her from the shadows but I didn’t see any despair, any weeping, nothing, just patience. I knew that she was the tailor’s daughter. A girl who only knew the black for her dresses and now, a woman already, far from mourning, she gave herself to me. When there was nobody else nearby, I asked the reason why she was doing it and she came back to me with the loners’ calmness, “I’ve been holding a wake over for my beloved for so long that now I miss them all. They were my only friends”.

Her name contained all the letters for a runaway but her eyes talked about roots. When she fell down at my feet, she talked me about the music that she had heard on her way to here. “This is not the end” she said, “just a new beginning”. Now I still wonder if she ever knew that the people brought her as a sacrifice for me.

We’re the shadows
threatening to rain
We’re the plague
that God didn’t dare
to spread out
We’re the song
playing in your head
over and over
We’re the adrenaline
When you’re falling from grace.

We’re the pain
from old memories,
the prosecuting look
the truth behind the whispers
We cause your darkest desire
your condemnation
your denying.

We rob the last image
from the blind
we’re inside
of murderers’ eyes
We drown the cry
surrendering to the punishment.
We’re the paedophile’s desire
when chasing a child.

No end for our hunger
Our touch, a grip
Darkness our flag.
Forget it,
You’ll have no salvation.

We’re the forgotten children
Millions are our names
only few of us
from Hamelin
Our master
With endless greed
finds more kids like us.

He tears off our reason
twists our mind
feeds us on blood
and your sex
to merge all our voices
in just one.

We’re the forgotten children
and you´re our forgiveness.

Everybody would say that she was able to talk with wolves. There would be a rumour going around saying that she preferred animals than men. She brought food from nearby villages and she saved us of starving during the last winter but when the snow melted away, she left without a trace.

Even now, I still dream about her red hood and lips.

“Emergencies, good evening, what service do you need me to get through?”
“Police, please”
“Good evening, Madame, this is Agent Kelly, how may I help you?”
“My sister Chloe is not at her place”
“And why do you think she could be in danger?”
“Since few days ago, she was receiving a missing person advertisement in her post”
“And why so worried? Unfortunately, in Harrytown, many women are gone missing every year.”
“The missing person was her and yesterday she didn’t come back home.”
“I’m afraid that we can’t take her a missing person, It’s too soon. We have to wait 48 hours.”
“But it will be too late for her!”
“Why?”
“This morning I’ve received her obituary”.

“I want an ice cream but I have no money.”
“Ask it to you mummy.”
“She won’t give me anything. I’ve seen the way you look at the other boys when you sell them ice creams and if you give me one, I will get into your truck.”
“What flavour do you want? Strawberry or chocolate?”

While, I’m working hard in my second draft of my forst novel, six of my microfictions have been published in Microhorror website. You can find there: The van, forest, Homanage to Poe, Doctor, help me and Sick People. Now I have to go back to my draft.

Write a poem using an oxymoron, two opposite words that you make them to be a pair. If you have any problem to make them, you can use this maker.

Lightful plague
Oil slick from within monsters and heroes come out.

ry writing a poem that responds to or riffs off of one of someone else’s NaPoWriMo poems. In this case, I’ve been influenced by Flooded by Shanna Germain.

Fading away
In your rain with no pain
A new beginning.