Tres palabras

"They are just there, in the open. No fence, no net, just a basketball pitch full of negroes". The officer wasn't alone, he and his colleague have stopped at the deck to eat their McDonald dinner inside the car, but he didn't care. He knew they both had the same thinking; they had never argued about his comments before. "You are a fine beaner, Vasquez". And they kept eating.  When they both finished he said "let's go and play a visit", started the engine, and drove off to the basketball pitch.  The ball had bounced off the court and he parked the car above it. He saw the young man that ran after it stopping a few meters away. "Is there any problem boy?". The young man shook his head. "Are you sure?". No answer. "Why did you come towards the car, boy?". The rest of the friends were waiting in the court, watching silently. "Speak boy!". "Excuse me, officer, I just wanted...". "What?! Speak lo

Mi nombre es Pedro, un nombre muy común en mi tierra. Y en mi familia. Así que para distinguirme empezaron a llamar Pedro Grillo. Posiblemente no me conozcáis, pero mis escritos sí: "si trae perro, átelo fuera, si no, no" o "abrimos cuando llegamos, cerramos cuando no estamos".  Desde pequeño mi madre nunca me ha dejado estar en el campo ni en la huerta. Ponía la excusa de que una vez casi me abrí la cabeza tropezando con una manzano (o algo así) y, desde entonces, ni un pie puedo poner en las tierras. Cada vez que iba a darle un recado me gritaba "Pedro Grillo sube pa'riba que pa'bajo no puedes ir". Por hacer la gracia, todo el mundo empezó a llamarme Perogrullo, y desde que a mi madre se le escapó, ya no recuerdo el día en que se refirieran a mí por mi verdadero nombre.  Me dedico a escribir relatos cortos porque no son largos, y me hago de oro. Intento que sean comprensibles, que mi familia y amigos puedan leerlos, pero no es tarea fácil; a vece

Why should I be happy? Because I'm privileged? There are others better off than me. Look at all those. Living their life as if nothing bothers them. My food is running low and I don't think going out is a good idea. It took me ages to get this position, next to the big high stained glass window, where everything is red, even the rain and the thunders.  I know they observe me from the shadows. They are waiting for me to leave, Bout this is my home now. Mine. Only mine. Jokes on them 'cause I'm injured and I cannot even walk. I can see a spider but it's far. I'll wait until it comes closer.  I hear the noise coming from the ground floor. Someone has open the door again. If I could move, I would quickly go out and get food and water. But I'm still not strong. If I would have to fight when I return, I would lose. I cannot leave my little red world. I'll wait for another spider to come.  I can feel their eyes on me. And I hear the creeks on the wood when they

He was driving through the desert, following the violet and pink sunset. He just killed a man and he didn't care. Or did he? It happened in a cave. He had followed his target there.  -What are you doing here? -We need to talk.  -I told you I'm still mad about the other night. Now go away, I have to work.  -I don't get what you are going to take pictures of here. This place is dead.  -I have to go into the cave, it's for the "in the dark" photography project. You know, the professor is a bit of an asshole.  -Am I? Then at least let me help with the equipment.  They went together, once at the entrance they used the torch of their phones to walk through a few galleries.  -Here is ok.  -Can you stop that for a second and hear me out? -What is to hear? You ridiculized me in front of my friends and treated me like shit.  -What did you want me to do?! I was with my friends too. I couldn't  -Couldn't let them know that we fuck? That you prefer me than your wif