Twilight's Flash Fiction / Relatos cortos crepusculares

The Basement It had been only a short time since they had settled into the house on the outskirts of town—a large, spacious, and very old building. Alex and Shannon lived there with their little daughter, Sharon. One sunny day, Alex returned from work and found Shannon planting beautiful orchids in the garden. When he entered the house, he noticed that the basement hatch was open. “Sharon? Are you there?” “Sharon?” He started down the stairs, and a foul smell almost made him vomit. The darkness prevented him from seeing that little Sharon was opening small white boxes arranged in chronological order. Covering his nose and mouth with his arm, he continued down until he reached the light switch. When he turned it on, the white boxes began to decompose and vanished. But for a brief moment, he could see them—millions of them—immaculate and fragile, containing the bad thoughts that had taken place in that house, thoughts that Shannon had unknowingly released. The nauseating ...

Ethereal Song Words from other worlds, disembodied ties between spirits and between desires. White companions in black moments, heavenly knots with thoughts. Canción etérea Palabras de otros mundos, lazos incorpóreos entre espíritus y entre deseos. Compañeras blancas en negros momentos, celestiales nudos con los pensamientos.

The Fountain Every morning, when he passed in front of the fountain, he stopped for a few moments and became oblivious to everything around him. From a window, a little Japanese girl watched him attentively, and he was realizing that she was watching him. So day after day, year after year. He grew old, and the little Japanese girl became a beautiful young woman. One day they crossed paths in the street. Their glances met and she suddenly asked him: "Why do you stop every day in front of the beautiful fountain on the corner?" "At the foot of that fountain one day, my wife died, and through one of the nymphs of that fountain tells me every day how she is. Thus, every day, she gives me the reason to live, and every morning I find in her words the love she has always given me." Moved by that love story, two tears welled up in the young Japanese woman's eyes, which he hastened to wipe with a handkerchief. From that day on, he confided in her about his ...

The minaret The Sun was setting. Weary rays of sunlight illuminated the slim octagonal figure of the solitary minaret. Soon, the muezzin would call the faithful to prayer. Shortly before, a scarcely visible crevice ran in an instant across the west face wall from its top to the ground, accompanied by a dull wail. The muezzin had attended, as far as his memory remembers, the prayers in that square presided over by the minaret. He was preparing to go to the square when he felt a strange sensation. Someone had told him about the death of the minarets. All those sacred places, after dedicating their lives to the offering to the faithful, sooner or later died. And his minaret had wanted to say something to him. He went to the splendid square to which the faithful began to go, presided over by the majestic tower. The muezzin wanted to be with his minaret, so, with a determined step, he started up the steep staircase and when the climb was almost over, the minaret moaned again, this ti...