Cuando despertó, descubrió que había ganado el avión presidencial. El descubrimiento no fue de golpe como podría esperarse, sino lento y paulatino. Igual que el retorno a la consciencia. Como cada mañana se levantó más dormido que despierto. Prendió la cafetera y el televisor antes de meterse a bañar. El sonido de la regadera ahogó el parloteó familiar del noticiero, pero no es como si le prestara atención. Solo quería llenar con algo, lo que fuera, el silencio matutino que perduraba, igual que la cama fría, desde el divorcio. Es por eso que le había comprado el boleto a Rosita. No porque creyera, o quisiera, la posibilidad de ganarse el avión. Dios me libre, pensó en ese momento. No, lo compró con la esperanza de llevarla a la cama. Dígase, lo compró por caliente y pendejo. Cuando Rosita llegó a ofrecerle el boleto lo hizo con ojos llorosos, el escote ligeramente abierto y descansó la mano sobre su antebrazo. La pobre lo había adquirido urgida por su madre y ahora no tenían ni para
Ten past nine. Death was running late. Again.
Richard stood from the couch with a sigh. Methodically he turned on the lights and then the TV. The same shitty news as the day before began spilling from the box and, ignoring it, Richard moved to the kitchen. He set a pot to boil water. The Earl Grey was always good for waiting.
Twenty past nine and Richard came back to his living room, teapot in one hand, a plate with two cups in the other. The TV was turned off and a man sat on the couch.
"I hope you don't mind, I have seen it all." The man said pointing toward the TV.
"You're late." Richard said ignoring the man's comment as he placed the
Memories of Thassilon, part 2 by Montalve, literature
Literature
Memories of Thassilon, part 2
Natalia walked for hours through the dark streets and alleys of Korvosa, unaware of where she was heading. She just knew that she needed to stay away from the workshop and the Box.
Before Natalia realized it, her feet had carried her to the doors of the Academae. Constructed like a castle, the imposing and impregnable thirty foot tall walls concealed not just the building and the students, but a different world from hers.
Except for the Breaching Festival and cursing once in a while about the imps that plague the city, she had put little thought into wondering about this building or those who lived inside. She didn't have the kind of coin t
Memories of Thassilon, part 1 by Montalve, literature
Literature
Memories of Thassilon, part 1
"Whatever brings you here, I'm not interested."
Natalia spoke without stopping or turning around, her delicate fingers still carefully working on a mechanical music player. Judging from how the wood squeaked with each step, she knew that the man behind her was unarmored. She placed one of her tools on the workbench and discretely picked up her butterfly dagger. That doesn't mean he is unarmed, Natalia thought.
"You haven't even heard what I have come to say," said the man in a clear baritone. He was not Korvosan, his accent was more refined than that. Chelexian, perhaps? And he's a nobleman, Natalia cursed twice under her breath.
"If it's
"It's as if the gods are crying," says the old coachman as his vehicle moves along the forested path. It certainly feels as if the sky is collapsing above us. Maybe the old man is right.
"Stop speaking nonsense Vrae," spits Anna, the old woman sitting with me in the back of the coach. "What will our guest think of us after such heresy?" The woman's tone make it sound more as an apology to me than a reprimand at her husband, but her eyes and thoughts are elsewhere. She watches every shadow outside the coach nervously. I had been lucky to find them this late at night. These days few travelers use this path anymore; it had just become too dange
Debts Always come First
Ernesto I. Ramirez
The red and black starfighter appeared suddenly from Nowhere, the subspace used by sorcerers for FTL travel. It was so fast that the Space Station's alarms and defenses had no time to go off. Without any inconvenience the small ship had stealthily made into the SSC Kuttner's perimeter, quickly disappearing among the hundreds of docked ships waiting for Customs or cleared already by the Command Tower.
Private Math Ross, Sonar Officer for the SSC Kuttner Space Station, had barely noticed the red dot on his screen. He dismissed it as nothing more than a system's bug. Overlooking operations was Lieute