Una tarde cualquiera se convierte en una historia mágica inspirada en Balada para un loco.

Kymli had always believed that magic, if it existed at all, lived quietly in the corners of ordinary things. In the soft curl of steam rising from her tea. In the familiar weight of a well-worn

پستی در تاپیک محفل به روایت فتح در انجمن ایفای نقش جادوگران: وزش باد گاه اوج می گیرد و فغان می کند و گاه شبیه به آهی می شود برآمده از چاه گلو. پنجره می لرزد، گویی که بی قرار است از آنچه باد در گوشش زمزمه

"You’ll have to sleep in here with me, Lavinia.” She strips off in silence and climbs in.

They can hear talking outside, and then the inevitable tap on the door. Lavinia sucks up the tension in one elongated in-breath and expels as much fear as she can.

"We make sacrifices every day, Father…every day and every night, so our children may live."

Lavinia lights a candle stub melded into the neck of an empty brown-stained rum bottle, sweeps away the sprigs, the leaf cuttings and the rock salt from a grainy wooden slab of a table

This video dives into Gabriel García Márquez's masterpiece, unraveling the story of a foretold murder in a small Colombian town. Uncover the secrets behind Angela Vicario's return, the Vicario brothers'

She turns her attention to the window as the tracks split off and the overhead cables dip up and down. Then through the Gasworks and Copenhagen tunnels with the graffiti scrawls like scent markings. Past

Gabriel Garcia Marquez's "Chronicle of a Death Foretold" is a captivating introduction to magical realism.

Finish my story and win a prize!!!

a short story with a happy ending

magical realism for the win

Ed could smell the chlorine from the other side of the street. He stumbled through the haze, eyes burning.

when words just don't cut it

It's a good thing they weren't compasses.

A night to remember Happily ever after? Kirsten and I got married shortly after she quit from her active duty for 'the Circle'. My own house was sold at a fair price and now we lived together at her beautiful

Matters of the heart Interim "Coop is not really your first name, right?", said Natoshi as we were cleaning up. It had been quite a busy evening in the restaurant. A full house almost all of

Source Misty Carnival The sun was gleefully scorching what green survived in the swampland through the days. Soon the green will fade to yellow and succumb to the hard, choking embrace of her—paving the

Runt Odel was not sure what was happening. Things seemed to have no rhyme or reason. Townsfolk she thought she knew well had disappeared from view. Ren du Lot, for instance, did not come to his door when