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15 Jun 2016

The dress (short story)

Image by Marta Santos

On that summer day back in 1945, mum and dad were happy. They said we had won the war. The allies had come to Reims to rescue us two months ago and that is the reason why mum had bought that dress, for celebration. At last we could forget about all the necessity and anguish we had gone through. The good had won.


So I went outside to use my dress for the first time. German corpses were piled up on the pavement sides, some with opened foreheads. The decomposing odor was increased by heat. Children were throwing stones at them. Women spat at them. Men kicked them and laughed. The good had won.

14 Jun 2016

иностранец (Inostranets)

The alien

«INHABITANTS OF PLANET EARTH,

Your leaders are tricking you. Yes, it is something you already suspect but you don’t know how much. You name conniveroics those who unveil the greater lies in your humanity, and I tell you:
Conniveroics are your governments, managing directors of multinationals, bank managers, those leading advertising campaigns. They sell you protection for you to be afraid and to accept instaling the virus. But they conceal the fact that genuinely there is no threat to hide from.

They use your fear. They do it to make you consider the antinatural as normal. And there they create the monster. They make hell out of paradise and ask for your cooperation. They know they can’t do it without you. That’s why they are dying with fear. They fear your not being afraid, and then having no more chance to go on manipulating you.

You are invencible, but you don’t know it.
You have the power, you have always had it. Yours is the last Word.
You decide whom you want to bet on, either on death or Life.

On antidepressive pills or healing your emotions.
On hating or loving.
On smoking or your lungs.
On alcohol or your liver.
On caffeine or your brain.
On oil propelled cars or the air you breath.
On recycling your rubbish or polluting nature.
On wounding those who can not defend themselves or defending those attacked by all.
On drowning in your consumerist trends or saving your money and value your liberty.
On following fashion or shining in your own difference.
On consenting abuse or reporting it.
On using women or loving them.
On creating mascots or allowing animals to live in freedom.
On indoctrinating your children or listening affectionately to what they have come to tell you.
On creating meat industries for serial slaughter of your younger siblings and believing your own myths as dogmas, or feeding from the resources the Earth provides.
On scorning those who say something you don’t like or trying to listen to their reasons.
On using logic alone or using the logic that comes out of the heart.

Friends, we have been observing you for eons. We have accompanied you in your process and we have always loved you. We are extra-terrestrials from a very distant planet and though you don’t know who we are, we do know who you are. We have not forgotten your grandeur. Now it is your work remembering it. With love, your brother


¼±ÞÿÕЮ°ðŬ»

Illustration by Marta Santos
The CIA director mumbled a few more harsh remarks and spat furiously to the floor.

‘Disgusting extra-terrestrial bugs’ he complained. ‘They think they can come here and speak their nonsense whenever they feel like. But now they will not interfere. We had enough difficulty trying to keep under control their green colleagues. Intergalactic trash…’ The outraged man crumpled the letter strongly, he took the Havana cigar out of his mouth and pressed it against one edge of the paper, then placed it in a glass ashtray.

After that he picked up the phone in his office.

‘Inform our president, Rockefappy, Eel Merchandiser, Her Majesty the Queen of Englaterrestrial, and that wimp called Anvil. Oh, and don't forget Pudding and the Chinese. The disgusting violets are trying to communicate again with humans.’ He took a gun out of the drawer, he observed it pleased and sketched a sardonic smile. ‘This time they will know what the United States of America are like’

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