«¿Pero, a dónde vamos?», se preguntaba. «¿Cómo es posible que haya gente que no sepa escribir bien ni su propio nombre?».
I’ve seen many strange things in my life. But nothing is anywhere close to what happened last summer. I refuse to believe in paranormal activities, but I guess now I have no choice, but to believe in a parallel world… inside my washing machine.
Sometimes I think my life would make a great novel. Well, to be more precise, it would be many novels, each of them inspired by different episodes of my life: when my plants used to die, when I discovered that my neighbour lays naked in bed with her curtains open, when the mosquitoes don’t let me sleep in summer, or when I scream because I dropped bleach on my clothes, just to mention a few.
Broccoli and I are good old friends. I remember very clearly the first time we met: I was 19, and I was staying a few weeks with a family in London (the Gimsoms) while I was studying English at a school. One evening, I sat around the table for dinner with them and I found […]
La oficina de empleo apenas acababa de abrir, pero en el pasillo de espera ya había un grupo de ocho personas sudorosas haciendo cola en silencio para ser atendidos. En la puerta de entrada, una cucaracha de imponentes dimensiones nos recibía tumbada panza arriba.
Are you new at blogging? Do you want to write about your hobbies, work/business, or just about your life; but when you put your fingers on the keyboard, don’t know where to start from?
I put my diary in the toaster and poured some coffee in my shoes.
I measured the speed of clouds and hung my raincoat under the shower.
I left home when the alarm clock was still singing.
I took a selfie in the lift just before my colours disappeared completely….
I woke up when the sun still was shy. The bed sheets didn’t want me anymore, and the apartment was telling me to leave. So I left. I didn’t even bother to take off my pjs. I put on my flip-flops and greeted the day from middle of the road. I danced along the pavements, […]
The door is closed and the sun is shining on the quiet streets. For the 40th day.
He started talking to the dying plant in his living room. And made friends with all kinds of imaginary creatures. He learned to listen to the absence of voices, to read the colors in his small apartment and to find beauty in the most ordinary objects.