Sunday, May 29, 2016

What's for Dinner?

Asalia House

The children looked at their plates, disappointed.
“Can’t we have something different for a change?”
“Be grateful, there’s food on the table,” replied the headmistress.
Some of the kids sulked, others refused to eat. When lunch ended, most of the food went back to the kitchen, untouched.
“What should I do with this?” asked the head cook.
“Give it to the dogs. There’s no room in the fridge. And when you go by the cemetery later today, don’t bring the hands. The kids don’t like seeing fingers floating in the soup. Oh, well, at least the dogs will be happy.”

Sunday, May 22, 2016


Tierra de Fuego

Cramped in their seats, no one moved. No one could move. The flights had become sheer torture. The number of seats increased but no one complained because the prices were irresistible. When the row started at the back, no one gave it much thought. It was only understandable. When the frantic voice of the stewardess asked people to remain seated, no one reacted. When a clearly tense captain announced an emergency landing, most were relieved. When the emergency crews arrived, the biggest piece to be found was the size of a handbag. Dirt cheap, said the flight advertisement. So true.

Saturday, May 21, 2016

At the Builder’s Brewery Art Festival

For the second year, I was invited by the Builder's Brewery in Second Life to donate a piece of my writing to be auctioned for Relay For Life (RFL). I have chosen a poem I wrote a long time ago that still today moves me for the seed of hope it conveys, "Peace Returns".

If you can, do bid on it. All proceedings will go to the American Cancer Society. The bidding can be done between May 21st and May 28th. To go to the location of the Art Auction, click here.

The Art Auction is one amongst many events taking place throughout the week. For more information, click here. For the Builder's Brewery RFL Art Auction Shopping Guide, click here.

Thank you for helping! <3

Sunday, May 15, 2016

Out of my Brain


The roads were littered with metal scraps. The food was scarce. No one dared say a word. The real problem was none of this; it was the compulsory pea-sized contraption. Then, they went back home and all the brains on Earth were placed in suspended mode, our bio energy being sucked away, long-distance. When they returned for a check-up, I was part of the test sample. I hid, and jabbed my eye to get them out of my brain. I lost an eye but they never saw me again. More have done it too. We’ll get Earth back, one day.

Sunday, May 8, 2016



The growling coming from the cave was nothing compared to the fear they shared of ghosts. Emily, however, had a deep rooted curiosity about entities of a parallel dimension. The problem was that these entities enjoyed playing tricks on their mortal counterparts. One was imitating voices and that growling was exceptionally realistic indeed. When they stepped inside the cave to take a picture of the ghost, the flash showed them, for a fraction of a second, the chilling white teeth of a huge black bear. “Oh, so ghosts don’t exist after all,” said Emily disappointed with the insignificant furry problem.

Sunday, May 1, 2016

Think of a Number


“He slept for a thousand years,” read Mrs. Thomson. “And when he woke up,” she continued, hoping to keep the class quiet. “He…”
That’s when Peter stood up.
“Why did he sleep that long?”
The kids looked at him.
“I don’t understand.”
The quiet class quickly turned into a mob of loud kids.
“Children, the story isn't over yet,” protested Mrs. Thomson. It was hopeless.
Twenty years went by and Mrs. Thomson received a letter.
“I think I understand why he slept for a thousand years. I wish I could do the same.
Peter, in for a life sentence.”