Sunday, December 30, 2018



Christopher's general state of irritation annoyed everyone. The temple was supposed to bring inner piece. Yet, Christopher's constant sarcastic remarks made the community wish they could do something about it.
“The statue. Pathetic. A feeble attempt at being modern.”
The members shrugged.
“That little stupid heart at the so-called feet of the statue. Idiotic.”
The others looked away.
“And the colors. Pink or something.”
It was purple.
So, the others grabbed Christopher and locked him in the catacombs.
He would join the other one they had locked down there five years ago. They'd get along just fine.

Sunday, December 23, 2018

Merry Christmas!

Milk Wood

NaNoWriMo ended successfully. It is now time to rest.

For the first time, I have printed the novel out. To see the whole text, to feel the weight of my novel, was a rather strange and, at the same time, exhilarating feeling. 169 pages, with the tentative title Just Before Dawn, are about to be revised.

In the meantime, I am attending a course on Novel Revision taught by published author Verona Lorgsval in Second Life, Victoria Lynn Osborne in Real Life. 

Those who follow my blog know that I have been taking part in NaNoWriMo since 2013. This means that I have several novels written and waiting to be revised.

The problem is... I hate revising. I find it boring. So, I inevitably give up on the revising and move on to a new project.

The Novel Revision course is making me want to revise my latest book, also a strange yet exhilarating feeling. The materials have been gathered, the text printed and now... let the show begin... after Christmas!

I wish everyone who stops by this workshop I call my blog a 
Merry Christmas. 
May you have a wonderful time with those you love!



The conveyor belt carried a collection of distorted torsos. They had been hanging at the exhibition dock for a few weeks.
“Is this what they'll eat?”
The others nodded. “Ripe and packed with proteins, sir.”
“Don't you think the meat is too ripe? How do you expect those damn humans to work properly if you give them this?”
The others looked alarmed.
“Sector 6 is proud to provide quality food. Would you like to taste the meat?”
“Well, no. You taste the meat.”
Ward 2 became packed with Sector 6 personnel for a few damn weeks.

Sunday, December 9, 2018



“A polar front is approaching...” and I didn't hear anything else.

Nowadays, it's either too cold or too hot, too windy, too stormy, too something, too whatever.
The polar front is just another weather (aka stressful) event that comes for a visit to this quiet little country in the South of Europe.
The weather website mentions temperatures of 15C (that is 59F).
I think that's OK. 15 degrees is not that polar.
Now that I think of it... if it starts to snow here, I'll have to write something else about how silly I was for believing the Internet.

Monday, December 3, 2018

Weather Aliens

Asalia House

An army of clouds traveled fast over a gray sky. Fat drops splashed on the mossy tiles and created a stream of water that flowed determined towards the end of the terrace. It was impossible to predict when the rain would finally stop. 

He hated the rain. He couldn't stand the dampness. He especially loathed having to struggled not to fall as he crossed the terrace. That terrace had been a disaster for him several times. The slippery floor looked rather nice, shiny. However, he hated it wholeheartedly. 

Then the rain stopped and hot temperatures took over. It was great at the beginning. People felt like they were on an eternal vacation. 

However, constant cuts in the water flow, restrictions on watering gardens and lawns, the long lines to get water from the local fire brigade trucks, all this made him wish he had the rain back, that dreaded rain he had cursed so often. 

But the rain never returned. 

Scientists tried artificial clouds, weather changing techniques, micro-management of weather systems, but nothing changed. 

Everyone hated the sun. Everyone hated the heat. Everyone hated the blue sky, that beautiful blue sky. 

When the aliens arrived, no one noticed it at first. Their ships were silent and none of them uttered a single sound. 

Then, people thought that was the last thing they needed. Were they being invaded? Were they going to become slaves and work in alien mines? Were they going to die? 

The aliens took a huge piece of some unknown mineral and placed it in the middle of the desert (one of the deserts). The mineral looked like a giant menhir and it pulsated, shining a green glow around it. It pulsated for 4 days. 

And then, a few clouds appeared. Everyone cheered. 

More clouds appeared, traveling faster over the blue sky, turning it into a light gray tone. 

And after two weeks of expectation, the first drops of rain. 

The terrace became slippery again. And he was happy. 

As a matter of fact, he never thought he'd be this happy. The tour of duty was almost over. This was his 5th. The perks were good and he had volunteered four times. The first time was always compulsory for everyone. It was a tour of adjustment. Most of them would do several tours if they could accommodate to the local ways. 

He had to admit that, at first, it was rather perplexing, but as time flew by, he had fun and even started taking part in the local activities. 

After the 3rd tour, he decided he had enough. He was tired. He wanted to go back home. 

But that's when the problems started back then, the constant rain, the flooding, the destruction of the environment. It was driving him crazy. 

Nevertheless, he was told to stay on for a bit longer. The plan was for him to stay a week or two. Then, the plan changed, and he had to stay for 3 months. Then, everything changed again and he was told to stay indefinitely. 

He hid the processor well. At least, he tried to. The damn thing became problematic when it started to interfere with the Internet connections of his neighbors. 

A new processor, more updated, was to arrive quickly. It never did. So he had to hide his processor in the middle of the local forest, away from everything and everyone. 

Some kids almost found it one day. He had just buried it when the kids appeared. He hid behind a slope nearby. He didn't want to get arrested for being some sort of freak wandering about alone in the forest, or worse spying on kids. He threw a few stones in the direction of the road. The kids' curiosity was too big and they followed the noise. At some point, they lost interest, as kids do, and walked away. He had to dig the damn thing up and walk deeper into the forest to hide it. 

When the aliens appeared, the processor was in his pocket and no one, in a radius of a km, had Internet. It was a small price to pay for the rain, he thought. 

When the aliens packed up their gear and left, as silently as they had arrived, he was left in charge of the green standing stone. 

Yet, he still managed to slip a message to the unit captain. 


Sunday, December 2, 2018

Too Much

Water Reserve

A mother came to me.
She was holding a photograph.
It was her daughter's.
A mother came to me with tears in her eyes.
She wanted to tell me about the stories.
She wanted to tell me about the singing. The painting.
“My daughter, you see...”
And she held the photograph close to her chest as if that would bring her daughter back.
“I'm writing a book, you see...”
And she poured her soul into it.
A mother came to me and whispered.
“It was too much...”
And I thought, it was. It was too much pain.
100 Word Stories