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"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...

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 m...

In the world of Cookland, there were two main cities: Bakyland and Saltown. The first one is were all sweet and soft ingredients lived, and the second one, the salt and sour. For centuries both cities have hated each other. Bakyland ingredients were too narcissist and they were always making fun of Saltown because even the same ingredients were more ugly there! To take revenge on them, Saltown ingredients were always trying to ruin their beautiful creations and, with time, they built a transparent wall that would separate them. It had to be transparent, otherwise, how would they be able to hate each other? But there was one thing that both cities despised more than each other: the Hand!  From time to time, a mysterious gigantic hand would appear from the sky, grab some ingredients, disappear between the clouds, and they never saw them again...  They learnt to live with it but every time it would appear, chaos would rule both towns. The major problem was that the Hand would onl...

Describe dream home. And she spent days and days thinking about it. And only one image appears. The smell of his hair. And she started to wonder. About his dimples. His cheeks. His squicking laugh. His head on her chest. His hand covering her face. Him smelling her hair. Him touching her legs. Him covering her at night. Describe dream home. But she couldn't. As it was him. And he was ineffable.

From the top of the hill, I could see how the wind was feeding the fire that was destroying our sunflower fields.  Everything red. Everything black.  I wish I could say that after it I was working side by side with my family, to transform this catastrophe back into our beautiful yellow sea. But the truth is that I have no hope. My dad came into my bedroom after two days. He opened the curtains. I turned around; I didn't want to see the burnt landscape.  -You cannot stay here forever... An extra pair of hands would be very useful.  How could he say that? -Nothing will ever grow there anymore.  -Now, that's not the right attitude, isn't? He sat next to me, sighed and stroked my hair.  -I tell you what. You need to use your imagination and pretend that there is a tiny fairy world underneath all the coal, and we need to save them so... -I was the one who started the fire.  The words came out of my mouth bluntly. He ...