Monday, February 13, 2012

Ex Cupid

       In the name of reason Minerva clipped Cupid's wings and in the name of love Venus burned the bow and the arrows.  After so many wars and mediocre poetry, they decided that love was not a child's play.

Saturday, February 4, 2012

The mother of torrone

     The old ladies from my town said that when you split a certain kind of almond you find sleeping little girls inside.  For years I halved almonds without success and I forgot about my dream of becoming a mother.  Today I broke a piece of torrone and found an almond halved on the side.   Cradled on the almond's halve a little girl slept.  I bought this torrone to an old lady for charity, because she always makes torrone with little sweet and too much almonds.

Mice

     The first time I dreamed of mice was the day my mother died.  I dreamed there were mice pups, pink and hairless, splashing in the milk gallon; that's why I didn't got rid of my mother's cats, Popiel and Gertrude.  I sleep without sheets, I've dreamed of mice walking beneath them, and I destroyed the bed's headboard because I dreamed that one of them jumped from the there to bite my ear.  I've hanged all the drawers from the ceiling to prevent the rodents from getting inside of them.  I covered the windows because I've come to hate light and I can see better without it.  I sealed my mother's bedroom.  I'm the only one that enters that room, Gertrude and Popiel wait outside, scratching the door desperately.
     I don't cover my feet fearing a mouse might be hiding inside a shoe like I once dreamed.  I've found fleas in my groin and armpits, and pustules like the ones my mother had.  I haven't left the house since my first dream and food is becoming scarce.  I try to sleep but I perceive a sweetish odor and when I fall asleep the sounds of walking in the walls and squeaks awaken me.  In the dinning room I find Popiel dead on the table, his remains gnawed.  On top of the refrigerator lies Gertrude, that arches her back, sharpens her sight, shows her claws and teeth when she sees me.


Thanks for reading, did you notice the little critter by your feet.

Regret

     Pygmalion returned home after doing the offering and looked at the statue.  As he touched the stone curls the marble turned into the soft wool of the little lamb for which he had sliced and incinerated Galatea.

Cosmetic

Using a wet towel the make up removed the woman.

Cups of fiction

Welcome to A Cup of fiction.  I invite you to have the first cup, I know it won't be your last.  Cups of fiction exist because these stories are short, fast and delicious like a cup of coffee.  Some are served with sugar, some not, some could have milk, some could not, you can taste all flavors and recipes.  Sit with a cup of coffee and enjoy a cup of fiction in the cafeteria, at the office, with friends or with the family, the stories will give you yarn to weave conversations on the table.

And do not forget to leave comments, they're the best tip!