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LETTERS TO NIL

When I was fourteen, I met Nil, a classmate, soon after we fell in love. Nil is and will forever be a special someone for me. During our teenage years, he always wrote me letters. On April 17th, he gifted me a pendant with his initial and a note where it said: «Love is not finding someone to live with, but someone without whom you cannot live. Do you want to be my lover? Love, Nil». From that moment on, we didn’t separate each other, and since then I have been wearing the pendant. After fifteen years together, Nil was diagnosed with an illness and unfortunately it was too late to save him. After his passing, I have started writing every night before going to bed all that happened during the day. And always I end it saying: «Forever yours and no one other than you. Love, Èrica».

CLARINETTE

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LETTRES À NIL

Quand j’avais quatorze ans, j’ai rencontré Nil, un de mes camarades de classe. Très vite, nous sommes tombés amoureux. Nil sera pour moi une personne spéciale. Pendant notre adolescence, il m’écrivait toujours des lettres. Le 17 avril, il m’a offert un pendentif avec son initiale et un mot qui disait : « L’amour ne consiste pas à trouver quelqu’un avec qui vivre, mais à trouver quelqu’un sans lequel on ne peut pas vivre. Veux-tu devenir ma copine ? Nil t’aime ». À partir de ce moment-là, nous n’avons plus été séparés et j’ai toujours porté le pendentif qu’il m’a offert. Après quinze ans ensemble, Nil a reçu un diagnostic de maladie trop tardive. Chaque nuit, avant de m’endormir, je lui racontais mes expériences et mes sentiments et quand j’avais fini, je lui écrivais : « Toujours avec toi et je ne serai jamais avec quelqu’un d’autre que toi. Èrica t’aime ».

CLARINETTE

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FUGIDA DEL MUSEU

Amb els petits arbres col·locats sobre pedestals i disposats en fileres al voltant de la paret frontal i la del fons, com si fos un passadís, la zona dels bonsais no presentava gaires amagatalls. L’Amèlia s’aturà en sec i rumià, durant uns instants, el que estaria a punt de succeir. No tenia més de 15 segons per trobar la sortida d’aquella sala, abans de que els agents de seguretat l’enxampessin. A l’esquerra, per sort, hi havia una porta. Vacil·là una mica al obrir-la i entrà. Ara s’ubicava al pavelló central del museu. La sortida principal estava a uns deu metres. De sobte, va escoltar a algú parlant per walkie-talkie i, d’una revolada, es refugià darrera d’una de les plantes que envoltaven el pavelló. Passats uns minuts, aconseguí sortir del museu sense ser vista i desaparegué pels carrers de Manhattan.

JASON BOURNE

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LA MUSIQUE EN PERSONNE

Savez-vous qu’est que c’est la vraie musique ? Qu’est que c’est vraiment ?

Celui qui te fait pleurer quand tu en as besoin, celui qui te fait danser et chanter à poumon plein.

Bien, il y a des personnes qui agissent comme la musique : tu te défoules avec eux, ils te font lâcher les pleurs cachés dans ta poitrine, ils te font danser et chanter à la vie et t’encouragent en situations importantes.

Voilà, ces personnes sont très difficiles à trouver, parce qu’elles sont comme des anges vivants sur la Terre, mais tu dois seulement les chercher bien.

Et pour toi, qui est ta musique ?

ROUGE

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RECUERDOS DE GUERRA

Está oscuro. Tardo un par de segundos en recordar dónde estoy. Veo en la pantalla que estamos sobrevolando Sudamérica, llegando ya a Santiago. Pensaba que no lo lograría y ya llevo varias horas durmiendo, pero tengo que ir al baño urgentemente. Me calzo el zapato izquierdo mientras palpo el suelo para encontrar el derecho. No hay manera. Se lo pregunto al hombre soñoliento que está junto a mí y se queda atónito. Palidece. Solo alcanza a responderme con un lacónico “no”, pero veo en su cara que algo sabe. Tengo mucha prisa. Llamo a la azafata. Misma reacción. ¿Qué saben todos que yo desconozco? No quería molestar, pero no me queda otra que encender la luz. Levanto la manta y a la altura de mi rodilla derecha me encuentro con ese viejo y maldito muñón.

ARAUCANO

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THE LAST DAY OF THE YETI MONSTER

Kenji is a middle-aged expirencied hunter,that knows a lot of facts about hunting.One day he caught a rabbit,and was coming back to home when he felt something strange at his back.When he turned back he saw a massive figure,and with more attention you can recognize that was the yeti.This yeti was doing he strange indications,like help.So the monster walked into a direction,and the hunter interested followed the big figure. 

After some walk he arrived to a cave,and saw her wife with life.He couldn’t believe it,so he ran after the woman and hug her.When he turned back to thank the yeti the monster disappeared,but Kenji can hear a voice like thanks for the chance to make her like a mother and not feel like a monster,and now can rest in peace. 

ESCRITOR SENSE LLAPIS NI IMAGINACIÓ

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EL MÓN ES BOIG

Març. La Terra s’acosta al Sol a poc a poc, com una verge que busca l’abraçada càlida i lluminosa de l’amant per esclatar en un orgasme de verds, i en una bogeria de colors, que escamparà pel món amb els estols d’orenetes.

Amb la passió arribarà l’estiu, gràvid de fruits i envoltat de cors de cigales i simfonies de grills. Però, ai, l’amant, voluble com són els amants, en acabar l’idíl·li se n’allunyarà. Lentament, amb recança. I la Terra s’anirà desprenent del seu vestit de núvia verda enmig de boscos daurats de melangia. L’hivern li portarà mortalla, feta de glaç i silenci, i, com cada any, li repetirà a cau d’orella l’eterna promesa de resurrecció.

Els canons retrunyen. Retrunyen sempre, cada vegada més a prop…

I potser l’estiu vindrà estèril, potser la tardor durà les mans buides, potser l’hivern romandrà mut.

El món és boig.

MARINA

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THE MESSAGE

There was a girl named Marta, she had the occasional family problems based on the economy. Marta was a girl who loved studying, being able to study and in the future being able to go to university to be an architect, but this dream pushed her back more and more due to family problems.

One day, luck was on her side. Thanks to his excellent grades he was able to get a scholarship to achieve his dream, the only downside was that he had to go very far to study, he had no resources, no values ​​or anything. easy to use so you can get out. This saddened her, but she did not give up, for she could offer anything she wanted.

Finally, after a long time, he was already at the airport to go and fulfill his dream, when suddenly, Marta reads a message, which is left in stone …

GISELLE AMORÒS

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AMANECE OTRA ETAPA

La vida se aceleró aquella primavera. Jubilada, cambio de domicilio, tercera etapa, y lo hago con sentimientos controvertidos. Serán parte de mi memoria y de mi historia casi cuarenta años de mi vida, en los que formé una familia, en los que forjé relaciones de amistad, en los que crecí personal y profesionalmente, en los que mi sentimiento de pertenencia al lugar era fuerte y consolidado. Pero pienso que más difícil fue dejar mi tierra a los veinte años, y a mi familia y me enfrenté, con ilusión, a una vida profesional con algunas incognitas. Y… todo salió bien, primera etapa .Y, claro que vuelvo a empezar otra vez, o a continuar no sé, ahora con el saber de la vida . Y desperté y aquí estoy, disfrutando de este amanecer, fiel a mi misma, con mis recuerdos y mi esperanza.

SERNA

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THE GIRL WHO ENDED A WAR

Once upon a time, there was a dragon who lived between the south and the north of the village. The people of the north said that the people in the south had to be the food for

the dragon. But the people of the south said the other thing. Because of that, a war started. One day, a girl called Maya, who lived in the south, was chosen to be the food for the dragon. She had a best friend that lived in the north, but she decided not to tell him. The next day, the girl came to where the monster was, and saw that his best friend had been eaten by the dragon. She started fighting with him and killed him. The people couldn’t believe it, they were free. The people of the north and the south finally became friends. Beginning from that day, Maya came every month and visited where her best friend died. There she cried and the roses that were there became bigger and bigger.

ROSES