Does La La Where A Weave?

The first story and the poem of this year

We continue

section Each week a story and a poem with two old acquaintances: Antonio Serrano Cueto, with an excellent short story called The fishmonger. We have to say that during the dates of Christmas this author made a comment on our blog, where he arrived by chance to publish his story thanking Internet Ghosts . On the other hand of an author in Madrid, Amalia Bautista, of which we have published several poems in this section, we present a beautiful entitled Darkness. Let's hope once again that you really like.

The fishmonger

Antonio Serrano Cueto

Scale

all positions of the fish have their line of customers (loyal to one, by the way the others) but one. Even more scale in the post fill a woman of extraordinary beauty, which entertains the expected sharpening knives with a smile wide. It is striking to see clients who wander away from the market, drawing a curve, when they pass in front of his display of marble. Perhaps fear a sudden and poignant reverie, though it is just to clarify in its defense that the fishmonger is a paragon of kindness and sympathy and it is not conceivable even a hint of sadism. Of course, when you open the freezer and allowed to see the head, on the whole market turns cold air and breathe.

Darkness

beautiful Amalia Bautista

Last night I've played and I have felt

without my hand fled beyond my hand,

fled without my body or my ear,

almost human in a way I have felt

. Pulsating

,

not know if as blood or tag

wandering

by my house on tiptoe, darkness goes up, darkness

low, run, sparkling.

run for my wooden house

windows opened and I felt you beat the entire night,

daughter of the deep, silent,

warrior, so terrible, so beautiful

that everything that exists,

for me, without your call, do not exist.