A sealed envelope

He sits down and looks out his window, drops hit the window frame as it starts to rain. He stares at the mountains and can’t afford his thoughts. On one of the corners of the desk there is an envelope, it’s sealed. He tries to open it but fails, he doesn’t know who’s the sender or how did it ended there on top of his desk. The rest of the afternoon he uses different techniques to open the envelope but after some hours he gives up and tosses it in the trash.

He walks to his bedroom and closes the curtains, on top of his bed there’s a note. When he reads it, he hurries and look through the window. There he sees it, the envelope he couldn’t open drifting through the crowd, carried by the wind. He runs all the way down his buildings, under the rain and through the avenue. The envelope continues escaping from his hands until it’s out of reach, within each minute, there are more drops on it. A sad smile on his face, whispering goodbye and trying to explain himself why did that envelope had appeared and why was it finally gone. He would have to wait for the rain to ease, for his sunny days, beautiful prairies and dreamy sunrises to return timely inside a sealed envelope.



A runaway train

She used to travel by train every day, her days are busy and the train is the only moment she has to close her eyes. Sometimes she thought about taking a few days or going on vacation. No. It will not help her career. Trying to win a bet on time, she closed her eyes, not wanting to look how she approached to her stop. She never looked around, she thoughts that if she did, it will be a waste of time. Staying here in reality while time passes and laughs in front of her.

It all happened one of those normal days, ten minutes after she had close her eyes she heard the train’s wheels grinding just before a big din. Nothing else. Everything was quiet. For the first time since she used to travel in that train, she opened her eyes and looked out the window, speed, disaster, dust, snow. She shouted but no one could hear her, the train wasn’t going to stop. She smiled. Passing in front of her eyes, carrying wagons of memories. She was convicted to travel in that runaway train and it doesn’t matter how much she wanted it, how many things she tried on order to do it, she could never stop it.

She really needed those vacations, maybe a pause, a little jump in front of that train.


Taken from: url

Sorry for the wait, school has been very demanding lately and my writing has been stored in a drawer. The next week I’ll try to write and update more ❤


¿Por qué esas lágrimas púrpura?

¿A qué se deben esas lágrimas púrpura?

Si tú lo tienes todo.

Existen personas que están peor que tú y no lloran nunca.

Detén esas gotas que se deslizan fuera de tus ojos.


Seca tus mejillas,

arregla tu maquillaje que se ha corrido,

ajústate el suéter y deja de mirar atrás.

No mereces llorar.


¿Por qué lloras, si eres perfecta?

Una situación como esta,

no merece que desgastes tus ojos llorando así,

como pintura púrpura que oscurece un paisaje blanco.


¿Sigues llorando?

Mira hacia el frente.

En algún momento,

esas lágrimas púrpura dejarán de caer.


Tomado de: url



Para ese pianista que no conozco.

¿Quién es el que hace cantar el piano al anochecer? El que con sus alegres melodías mejora mis tardes. ¿Quién es ese al que escucho tocar? El que con sus escalas pentatónicas aleja mi soledad, el que me hace compañía desde lejos, el que llena mis días de inspiración. ¿Será el de los ojos azules? O, ¿el de sonrisa brillante? Sus notas musicales tocan mi ventana y dejo atrás la monotonía de la rutina, no puedo olvidar la magia en sus interpretaciones. ¿Quién es ese que no me deja sola de noche? Quien sin conocerme, no me abandona cuando todas las luces se han apagado, ese que sólo conozco mediante la música, ese cuyo rostro no puedo ver.

Ingenioso e impresionante. Siempre recogiendo mis lágrimas con el trinar del piano, Va en crescendo su sonido cuando toca las teclas iluminado por la luz de las estrellas, sus dedos golpetean como el granizo cayendo en la ventana en medio del crepúsculo. La clave de SOL no logra definir todo lo que escucho cuando las teclas suben y bajan creando una atmósfera de paz. Dócil y suave. Siempre pienso en quién puede ser el que siempre me hace sonreír con sus ingeniosas técnicas, el único que ha logrado hacerme tararear mientras me pierdo en el pentagrama. Vehemente y apasionado. No dejo de preguntarme acerca del dueño de ese piano que acaricia mis oídos, las notas que llevo dentro de mi mente y la dulce melodía que guardo en el más profundo rincón de mi corazón.


Tomado de: url

Desperate voices

In the middle of a storm I can observe,

what life whispers behind my back.

And as I see her turn her face away,

I can see my world turning black.


Now I see the shy lightning bolts,

appear in the middle of the gray.

Looking directly at us.


Just under sinister sheets,

the shackles for now quiet and dark,

waiting for murmurations in the lonely streets,

hearing desperate voices scream outside.






Being next to someone, you can’t talk. Lying on the couch, looking at the ceiling and hearing the clock’s tic-toc.  Everyone’s quiet, everyone’s gone and the only ones remaining are you and your thoughts. Trying to think about the years that had passed, the thing that you’ve had but nothing’s enough, you’re getting tired of your routine.


You start writing a letter asking them to hang out with you.


You erase what you’ve written because all you want is their company.


You get completely exasperated and run away from that place because they’re being like a swarm, chasing after you. This relationship just wouldn’t work, it’s better for you not to talk to them anymore.

Desolation again,

You want your loneliness to be with you again because if she isn’t, then you’re completely alone.

So please, desolation,

We’re trying to make a truce. The world is ruled by you, oppressed by your evil laughter. We want to avoid your temptations but we run into your arms once more. Being next to you everyday, in the bus, in the street, trying not to talk with you. Set mercy on us, forget humanity just for a second, leave us in peace, we are already used to loneliness. After all, it’s a world where we are stalked, scared and overwhelmed. We are living an endless anguish because of you…



Hi there! I’ve been so busy I haven’t got time to write here. This is kind of a letter I wrote to one of the most devastating feeling in life. Make sure to keep track of my whole collection of short stories: Paper Mâché (especially if you’re new here), I’ll be updating frequently and you can find all the stories I have uploaded here from the earliest to the latest. Today’s my birthday! So I tried to make something special to celebrate but I couldn’t so I just came up with this entry. Hope you like it. 




While lying in the silver lining of a cloud, I heard a strange sound. It was as if the rain was coming for me or the birds were looking for my voice. I didn’t know from where it come from, couldn’t see the place because of the fog. The sad atmosphere that comes when you suddenly remember them and it aches down in the center of your mind.

Claiming to close the windows, claiming to don’t look back, claiming to close your ears and your eyes. Trying not to see what’s happening around you. Deep tongues are talking behind your back, shallow words are knocking to the gates of your heart. Don’t let them in! You know you shouldn’t but can’t stop hearing them at the entrance of your thoughts. It’s then when you realize they have arrived breaking to pieces your self esteem. It’s now when you realize you have changed.

Those words that start to jiggle your thoughts now own your mind, it feels as if they’re written in your forehead. Those words you can’t forget, can’t erase, can’t replace but can’t digest. They appear everywhere, in everything you do, in everything you think, in everything you say. They’re printed in the clouds when you look up at the sky, following you in every step you take. It’s as if they were part of your deepest nightmares, as if they’re painted in the sea surface, as if they’re written in the center of the Earth, as if they’re scratched all across the atmosphere.


Taken from: url


Two or three words

Hello, this is an exercise I did with some of the students I talk with in my school bus: Juan Esteban “Juanes”, Pablo, Samuel, Angélica… I asked them to tell me two or three words and I would write a very short story using them, I wrote it in Spanish but I will upload them in both English and Spanish because my friends asked me to. I couldn’t take more of ten minutes per story.

Round #1

Words: exasperated and Juanes (he’s a very egocentric boy in my school bus).

It’s still a casual night, the moon shines silver in the sky. You brought your formal suit just in case the meeting was in a restaurant although you know well that it isn’t a hundred percent sure, knowing her informal and carefree style. However, there you are, still remembering her without being able to see her. You do not want to give up, it doesn’t mind how exasperated you are but you’ve got to admit it: she will never come. Your life will continue as monotonous and empty as it is, you will still see the silver moon without company. Please, Juanes, get out of there.

Palabras: exasperado y Juanes.

Sigue siendo una noche casual, la luna está plateada en el cielo. Trajiste tu traje formal por si acaso la reunión era en algún restaurante aunque sabes bien que no es lo más seguro, conociendo su estilo informal y despreocupado. Sin embargo, ahí estás, todavía recordándola sin poderla ver. No quieres rendirte, por más exasperado que estés pero hay que admitirlo: ella nunca llegará. Tu vida seguirá igual de monótona y vacía, seguirás viendo la luna plateada sin compañía. Por favor, Juanes, lárgate de una vez.

Can you guess who’s the girl Juanes is waiting for? Hint: her name starts with A in Spanish and with H in English.

Round #2

Words: narcissism, glasses and foliage.

The blue foliage of the sky supported the loneliness of a pair of glasses that only looked up. He kept repeating over and over what he longed for. A dry leaf that used to bend in his lap was lost along with the wind and he could not stop watching. Narcissism was all he could see in the clouds that passed before his eyes leaving trails of smoke behind. He stayed with these stelae in his mind, watching the blue foliage of the sky that would not let him go, the place where he would ever want to be.

Palabras: narcisismo, gafas y follaje.

El follaje azul del cielo sostenía la soledad, de unas gafas que no hacían sino mirar. Se repetía una y otra vez lo que anhelaba sin parar. Una hoja seca que solía doblar en su regazo de perdía junto con el viento y no podía parar de observar. Narcisismo era todo lo que podía ver en las nubes que pasaban frente a sus ojos dejando estelas de humo detrás. Se quedaba con esas estelas en su mente, observando ese follaje azul del cielo que no lo dejaba ir, el lugar en el que alguna vez le gustaría estar.

What do you think? Can you guess the topic?

There wasn’t time left for a round #3 because I arrived to my house 😦 but I hope you enjoy these two I was able to write. I played with the topic and the characters challenging my school bus’s mates to guess the same things I’m asking you to guess here, that’s why I took so long (they weren’t able to find the answer). I hope you are.

Until my next post 😉

A Thousand Million Years

He just saw her once, in a bookstore. She was checking one of the books of the Agatha Christie collection, he looked into her eyes for less than a second. His cellphone rang but he didn’t pay attention. He had her in his head for about a week, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t think, he wasn’t in love though, one can’t fall in love with a person in just a second.

She saw him once, in a bookstore. He was around the shelf of Gabriel García Márquez’s books, his glance stabbed hers and she looked into his eyes for less than a second. His cellphone was ringing but he didn’t answer, his hand in his pocket most likely to hang the call. She nodded smiling and continued looking at Murder in the Orient Express. That was a very weird moment, she thought but couldn’t stop reproducing it in her mind.

The second their looks crossed seemed to last forever, like a thousand million years passing by. They continued with their lives until they returned to that bookstore some years after, both looking for romance novels.

Silence in between them.

Trying to recognize that look that used to last a thousand million years.




Las mareas se llevan lo que el viento dejó, y la lluvia empieza a caer. Un pesado humo inunda la sala que se llena con vapor. Las nubes bajan y el cielo parece desaparecer, mezclándose con el mar. La oscuridad se adueña del lugar y los tiburones empiezan a acechar. Cada vez veo más lejos la orilla, no puedo tocar el suelo. Abajo un cardumen de peces y al fondo los depredadores que esperan devorarlos. La sal se cuela en mis pulmones, obligándome a toser y esperar esa figura que no piensa aparecer. Con el agua al cuello, veo sus ojos brillar de color azul confundiéndose con el mar.

Murciélagos forman una nube sobre la superficie del océano con escalofriantes chillidos al volar. Voces nos gritan desde arriba, nos controlan como marionetas y con solo unos movimientos, nos frenan de escapar. Nos mantienen en la profundidad, en medio de la oscuridad con ojos poseídos de azul que cada vez se cristalizan más. Las burbujas ascienden a la superficie y no nos dejan respirar pues estamos concentrados en la profundidad de unas aguas negras, viendo el acantilado submarino, a punto de saltar. Los fantasmas no dejan de revolotear, sumergiéndose entre las olas y me da miedo abrir los ojos, no quiero verlos. Nunca amanecerá, seguiremos esperando la luz para que nos saque de esta pesadilla, ambos estamos nadando hacia mar adentro, cada vez más profundo, los peces debajo, los murciélagos arriba y los tiburones detrás.


Tomado de: url