Entre Escritores y Poetas del Mundo
Xuebing Du
Peter Solarz
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

@theartofmadeline
KIROKAZE
🪼

blake kathryn
almost home
styofa doing anything

pixel skylines

Kiana Khansmith
Claire Keane

Love Begins
hello vonnie
Misplaced Lens Cap
we're not kids anymore.

shark vs the universe

No title available
Monterey Bay Aquarium
trying on a metaphor
seen from United States

seen from Germany
seen from United States

seen from Germany
seen from Sri Lanka
seen from France

seen from Türkiye
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Philippines

seen from Hungary

seen from Türkiye

seen from United States
seen from India
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from France

seen from United States

seen from France
@undergroundwriter2050
Entre Escritores y Poetas del Mundo
Lee El eco de Anantashesha gratis en Inkitt
Lee El eco de Anantashesha gratis en Inkitt https://www.inkitt.com/stories/1612720?utm_source=shared_ios
Un periodista investiga con su colega fotógrafo un extraño culto en la India que conecta a gente acaudalada y cabezas de las más importantes
The shadows in the Alchemist's room
A couple of brown eyes appear in the dim light of a room. The darkness is apprehensive and a suffocating heat emanates from the walls, the shadows that merge with the darkness dance, forming the faces of tortured entities, they seem to scream, to demand that they be taken into account but those mahogany eyes fear those forms. Pale bare feet search the ground in the dark until they hit a hard surface. The heat is too suffocating, not even the gigantic fan that howls the wind from its blades manages to appease it. The brown eyes roam the room, straining to see, guided by the weak beams of light that filter through the only window in the place.
It's all a hallucination - he whispered to himself, closing his mahogany eyes - I shouldn't have read that stupid manuscript, it's all suggestion. The young man swallowed again and got out of bed, the heat in that room was unbearable, he had to leave his room but he was afraid of what he might find outside.
Be calm, it is only your damn imagination, they are only shadows in combination with the heat that this room causes, I curse the time I chose the hottest room in the place to stay! He began to walk around the place trying to reach the door on an unusually cold floor for the suffocating heat that the room provided. One hesitant step after another surrounded by shadows that seemed to take on a million different shapes, faces of innocents and demons, murderers and angels, hundreds of eyes watching him soundlessly in the unfathomable darkness of the suffocating place until he finally managed to place his fingers on the doorknob.
Do not open the door - whispered a voice that seemed to come from a place near him.
He turned around with his heart beating fast, trying to locate the source of that warning but there were only the silent shadows. The man smiled through the dim moonlight that filtered in from outside and slowly shook his head wiping the beads of sweat from his temples, chasing away any fear or doubt within. He rested his fingers once more on the door handle and turned it, expressing a gentle lament in the midst of the sepulchral silence. Her brown eyes silently watched the shadows outside take over inside her, the whispers turned to screams that pierced her brain as her faces were transfigured into something more concrete drowning out the dying moonlight she embraced. The Department. A last voice almost sneeringly whispered at the expression mixed with terror and madness of the young man who had physically aged fifty years. "I warned you not to open the door. Not while the shadows of the unborn who have been summoned rest in your abode."
Portada de mi novela ligera, tal vez haga una segunda edición con mejoras necesarias algún día...
Los espero el #viernes 11 de #octubre para mi charla sobre el #guion en @budokanec a las 16:40 ¡No se lo pierdan! :D
Conceptual art for my gay novel...
¡Guayaquil despierta! (poema)
Guayaquil,
antes eras madera de guerrero,
y ahora, puro cartón prensado,
quebrado bajo el peso de promesas huecas,
de manos que solo toman sin dar.
¡Regresa a la valentía que alguna vez tuviste!,
alza tu voz entre el lodo y el cemento,
y ruge,
ruge contra la injusticia y la mediocridad,
que con cadenas de silencio te quieren amarrar.
Toma tu granizado,
el agua de coco y el encebollado de las calles,
y hazlo tu bandera,
un arma que rompa las máscaras del poder,
que reviente a quienes oprimen al Ecuador,
a esos que han olvidado que el pueblo no calla,
que las calles gritan más fuerte que las oficinas,
y la lucha no muere aunque intenten apagarla.
Entrevista hecha a José Antonio de la Cuadra con gestores culturales peruanos que revela interesantes secretos....
Es la historia de un muchacho norteamericano, Matthew Davis González, hijo de un hombre que trabaja en una farmaceutic...
Una historia que estoy seguro gustara a todos donde una compañía esta creando pastillas anti gays y el dueño la esta probando con su hijo sin saberlo pero el amor llegara de manera inesperada, ¿Podrá ganar la relación pura contra la cruel farmaceutica?
Un thriller pollical que se desarrolla en el pequeño pueblo de Anconcito con un horror cósmico que reptan por cada hoja leída...
Esta es la ciudad araña que aterroriza a los aborigenes de la selva mundial en: Los Hijos de la Selva, Jura y la ciudad araña.