T.J.S

[tjshirok]

The things we do

"That's all?" Asked the boy. His eyes brimmed with depression. 

"Yes, that’s all I could get." Replied the girl. 

"Really?" He claimed with disbelief, hoping she would laugh and say it was all a joke. 

"Yes, they wouldn't give more in the market," she answered extending her robotic arm to take the bag and looked at the food the Occisors, the plague's exterminators and the new world's bringers,  have rendered a few minutes before, at the fortnight hecatomb. 

"What are we gonna do with that?" The boy denied with his head. 

The girl looked inside the bag, there were three apples, one fish and three cups of flour. They could fractionate the animal and eat it in four different meals, they could make one bread out of the flour and eat the fruits when everything else has been consumed. 

"Don't worry, we have enough for a week and then… " The girl stopped talking, the boy looked at her and their gaze found each other. 

"Yeah," he said" we will survive out of these." She assented and then he turned around and went deeper in the cave to the room they had built long ago. 

The girl surveyed her body. She had no feet, but instead two metallic prosthesis were attached to her flesh. She neither had hands nor forearms and one ear was missing. She denied with her head, looked up at the cave and started walking further in the darkness thinking which limb she would have to give next. 

T.J.S

[tjshirok]

28 de Junio

"Mírate al espejo y dile que te quieres

Que te quieres AHORA, no cuando tengas esos kilos de menos.

Que te quieres AHORA, no cuando tengas el trabajo de tus sueños.

Que te quieres AHORA, no cuando tengas la vida que la sociedad te dijo que era correcta.

Dicelo hasta que te quieras por lo que eres, no por lo que tengas."

T.J.S

[thespilledquotes]

People often forget the eroticism of connecting through mind & spirit. The way a body tingles when its soul has been stroked by another's. The comfort when someone not only understands you, but feels you.

— Meredith Marple

[tjshirok]

26 de Junio

Flash Fiction

Labels

I closed the door and turned to look at the street. There was Ms. Flores taking her dog out for a walk. I greeted her with my hand and she smiled back. 

Ms. Flores was always smiling, always happy. Her label at her forearm was right, I thought looking at the black words stamped in her skin: "The happy granny".

I turned to the other way of the street and walked, saying hi every now and then when I saw a neighbor, and they all answered in the same way, except for Mister Edison, because, as his label said, he was always in a bad mood. 

I turned at the intersection smiling at the neighborhood, happy and delighted with it's greens yards, it's perfumed flowers and it's shinny atmosphere.

A hand pulled me back and distracted me from my delightful thoughts.

"Ouch" I exclaimed, surprised by the sudden attack. 

"Your label" said roughly the policeman. 

"Oh" I tried to act as if I was confused but his eyes were sharp as knives. "I didn't notice" I said while putting up my sleeve. 

The black stamped words shocked me as a bullet every time a saw them: "The rebel girl". 

"Don't forget it again" He warned. 

I assented with my head and left the spot feeling remorse and self hatred. I have left myself act as if I wasn't my label. 

It has to stop. I said to myself for the one hundred time. 

But I couldn't make it stop, because I didn't want to be the rebel girl, the one whose clothes were always black and the one adults don't want to deal with. 

But that wasn't my choice to make. 

T.J.S

[tjshirok]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Rafael Cabaliere (@rafaelcabaliere) on Jun 24, 2020 at 7:30am PDT

[tjshirok]

24 de junio

Flash fiction

-Cuatro por dos es ocho -le contestó él, sus cejas unidas en el medio fe su rostro mostrando confusión por su pregunta.

-Entonces ocho -continuó su historia-, fueron ocho veces las que me lastimó.

-¡¿Ocho?! -el joven sentado frente a ella se paró, indignado, y empezó a caminar por la sala dando círculos alrededor de la silla en donde había estado sentado.

Ella lo observó, se fijo en sus ojos café brillantes como la luz de una farola en la noche, en sus brazos musculosos que parecían querer abrazarla y en su rostro, su rostro... Se sonrojó un poco y miró al suelo, sorpresivamente consiente de que lo conocía de toda la vida pero era la primera vez que lo miraba.

-Pensé -intentó articular, pero se volvió a callar apretando la mandíbula hasta que se calmó y se reclinó apoyando sus codos en el respaldo de la silla-. Pensé que sólo te había -sus ojos se clavaron en los moretones de sus antebrazos, marcas de manos que parecían querer extrangularla-, pensé que sólo había pasado cuatro veces.

Ella asintió, débilmente, como un conejillo lastimado.

-Solo lo hizo cuatro veces, pero en cada una de ellas rompió más que mis huesos.

T.J.S

[tjshirok]

18 de Junio

Flash Fiction

Break ups

She leaned in the couch and sighted.

She was better without him, she assured herself looking at the roof.

She was better off his jealousy and his endless questions evwry time she arrived home.

She was better alone, alone and in peace.

She nodded as if she were in an argument and had just won.

"You are better without him" She said, but she knew it was a lie.

She wasn't better without him, because, without, she wasn't at all.

T.J.S

[tjshirok]

6 de junio

"No se calma el viento soplando."

T.J.S

[freelance-philosopher]

“In individuals, insanity is rare; but in groups, parties, nations and epochs, it is the rule.”

— Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil

[tjshirok]

4 de junio

"Search for power and you will get drown in it.

Search for wisdom and you will have a priceless power"

T.J.S

[tjshirok]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Miki (@mikinaranja) on Jun 3, 2020 at 9:50am PDT

[tjshirok]

2 de junio

Flash Fiction

Batalla

Sacó las sábanas de cama mientras se peinaba el cabello con su mano izquierda. Había cosas de las que su esposa no se tenía que enterar, se dijo a sí mismo mientras volteaba a ver a la mujer lujuriosamente curvilínea que se cambiaba en la puerta de la habitación, a un paso de salir corriendo de aquel delito. 

-¿A la misma hora la siguiente semana? -le preguntó él mientras se sentaba a los pies de la cama matrimonial con sus ojos fijos en la Venus que acababa de saborear. 

Ella le sonrió, asintió y lo beso lento antes de salir apurada por la puerta del cuarto. Los minutos estaban contados.

Él se levantó de la cama, limpió las sábanas, ordenó el cuarto y se vistió con el traje que se había puesto aquel día para salir al trabajo. Luego de su rutinaria sesión de escenificación, se sentó en el sillón del living con una copa de vino en mano esperando a su esposa que, como todos los jueves, llegaba para la hora de la cena luego de su clase de pintura. 

<<Llegaré tarde. Recalienta el guiso que hay en la heladera>> Leyó el mensaje que su mujer acababa de mandarle. Chasqueó la lengua. No le gustaba comer solo. 

Se levantó e hizo tal como ella le había indicado, luego se sentó en la isla de la cocina rodeado del silencio de la casa y comió mientras revisaba su celular. 

No tardaría mucho en llegar, se dijo a sí mismo mientras leía las noticia y engullía el manjar. Incluso precalentada, la cocina de su cocinera era perfecta. 

La puerta principal de la casa se abrió y la voz de su mujer se escuchó en el recibidor. 

-Ya llegué -le gritó mientras dejaba cansada las bolsas de la compra, su cartera y el cuadro que acababa de pasar horas pintando para mostrárselo. 

-¿Cómo te ha ido la clase? -le preguntó él mientras la besaba. Ella sonrió de oreja a oreja. 

-Fue fantástica -empezó a decirle mientras describía lo que su profesor le había enseñado, pero los ojos de él estaban fijos en las bolsas sin prestar el mínimo de atención a lo que ella le decía-. Y había un tráfico terrible, por eso me demoré -concluyó ella volviéndose para mirarlo. Su esposo tenía su vista fija en un paquete de papitas fritas y golosinas que estaban completamente vacíos dentro de las bolsas de las compras-. Pasé por el mercado y tenía tanta hambre -empezó a excusarse mientras el odio en los ojos de él crecía. 

Ella no podía haberse comido todo aquello sola, pensaba él una y otra vez sin poder quitar sus ojos de la pista incriminatoria. Había encontrado el arma asesina y ahora no tendría ni una sola excusa para convencerlo. Se dio la vuelta, listo para empezar una nueva batalla.

[tjshirok]

30 de mayo

Flash Fiction

The feast

"One more?" Asked the reptilian been next to him. 

"No, we let in enough" Replied the gargoyle at his left. 

"What do you mean?" Exclaimed the reptile looking at the amusement park behind them. 

"We always let in five at a time" answered with loathing the stone creature. 

The man between them assented in agreement and turned his gaze to the park. The children were running in the gravel way playing with the plastic swords, more of them were laughing uncontrollably in the roller coaster and some of them were buying more tickets to the horror house. The man turned again to looked at the long line that was growing in a crescendo. 

“Maybe we have room for one more, don’t you think?” Said the human gazing to both of his friends. 

The gargoyle made a sound with his tongue in disagreement but it didn’t said a word. The smile in the reptilian face swelled like a cake in the oven and the tall and legless been assented. 

“One more” Announced the man and one of the children in the line started walking to cross the gate with trembling pace. 

One more it wouldn’t be too much, thought the man caressing his belly. He had eaten more than that, said to himself assenting and the turned to look at the amusement park where, with a second view, the children weren’t laughing, the kids running weren’t playing and the ones buying tickets were forced to stay where they were. 

“Don’t come complaining when you have stomach ache” Snarled the gargoyle. 

“I won’t” Answered the man smiling while looking at his feast. 

T.J.S

[freelance-philosopher]

“The highest and most beautiful things in life are not to be heard about, nor read about, nor seen but, if one will, are to be lived.”

— Søren Kierkegaard

[tjshirok]

28 de mayo

"Aunque no el único, también soy mi padre; me engendró y vuelvo a hacerlo cada vez que desposo una nueva desición"

T.J.S

[tjshirok]

26 de mayo

Part of a story

"Do you think it would end someday" Said the girl looking at the mirror. "Yeah, you are right" She nodded. "We will never stop suffering" A tear dropped from her eyes rolling down in her cheek. "We will never be happy" She concluded looking at the other women reflected in the glass, her arms filled with scars and her face dirty and burn.

T.J.S

[tjshirok]

24 de mayo

"Corremos al poder como la mosca vuela a la luz, y al igual que a ella, nos termina matando"

T.J.S