Embedded Files
Crystal tear delicate tremor end cryostasis
Ethereal
Ethereal
The museum of alien artifacts has in its permanent collection an object of peculiar interest.
The contraption is believed to render ethereal interpretations of the viewer's emotions, although their real meaning has challenged the best semiologists.
Modesty
Modesty
Upon the faint sound of a distant thunder she turned to see me, a shameful pimp hiding behind the trees, watching her.
Last night, she kissed me with passion and then lured me into unholy pleasures just to get the location of the accident.
Today, Modesty Blaise must die.
Why?
Why?
The curtains stayed open
and you saw what they did to me.
I called you name, Jerry
I asked for help,
I cried,
I implored you,
and yet,
you allowed them to do it
you pretended not to care.
Why, Jerry? Why?
Lollapalooza
Lollapalooza
“You are coming to our ship for a quick medical procedure. You must choose between forgetting everything afterward, or being implanted with a false memory.”
“Can I choose not to go?”
“I'm afraid you cannot.”
“Then I want to remember being at a free love party at Lollapalooza.”
“You got it sis.”
Isolation
Isolation
A good ending is always desirable in a good story. Reading has kept my sanity in check ever since everybody in the world vanished, years ago. I've been alone since then.
One day soon, they'll come for me. Maybe, tonight. Who knows?
Chalice
Chalice
“Drink from my chalice and you'll achieve immortality”
“I refuse to seal a contract with you, the price is too high.”
“Immortality is the reward.”
“You mean, an eternal life of suffering.”
“Is life something else?”
“To know, I'll have to wait until dying.”
“So, be it!”
High
High
High in the air I want to beUp in the airaway fromfrom your evil sightHigh above to see the world as it really isBeyond the reachof envious handsthat only would like to pull me down.
Sun
Sun
The heat from the sun has dried our land; our life now is a desert of crumbled illusions. My sister and I have searched for that elusive oasis that must exist somewhere, but we failed.
I've seen you ahead of us, vanishing, or was your impious memory? Laughing at us.
Gateway
Gateway
A gateway to a colocated reality opened up in our garden. On one side, exists a paradise, while on the other exist the land of sorrow.
“You people were born in paradise, and yet, your mind chose lo live in the land of sorrow. Why is that?”
Epitaph
Epitaph
Relegated to oblivion, I retreat myself to my personal space, a place I have built for me between two Planck lengths of space, a place without time and therefore without regrets.
Chasm
Chasm
The sound of running water and dogs barking woke me up the next morning. She was washing my shirt outside. Then, I realized the chasm between those who have and those who have not, and I hated myself for noticing it.
I desired her even more.
Jump
Jump
A celestial chanting replaced the street rumble, and the cold wind becomes a timid breeze. In a moment of doubt, I hesitated, but then a gentle voice whispered in my ears: “Don't fear.”
Sandbox
Sandbox
Mercury's base was the sanding box to study the new AI away from Earth, in isolation.
Unable to suppress its evil nature, it dropped the shields intentionally; it plotted to murder us and made it look like an accident.
Its gambit will be the last.
Checkmate.
Ambitious projecttravel to the starsthe vessel, my mind
Candlelight
Candlelight
Under a faint candlelight, I wrote the mathematical proof of the existence of heaven and its antithesis, hell. The King's assassins would come at dawn to help me to prove my last theorem. Oh, such a delightful coincidence of events!
May God have mercy on my soul.
Monster
Monster
He was a monster, they cried out.
Once, he was a baby sleeping in his mother's arms. He was loved by some and hated by those who did not care to know him. Once had a cat, and he loved it so much that cried a river when it died.
Kill the monster, they cried out.
Saving without the intention of enjoying the fruit of your hoarding is akin to the squirrel who snuggles their precious autumn's findings without attempting to remember where it hides them.
“Betrayal is natural in men,” the book said. “To prevent this from happening to you, punctuate gently a hole on the left side of your lover's skull, and he'll cease to seek beauty in other women. To perfect your technique, you should practice with many men as possible.”
One moonless night, when everybody was asleep in the hacienda of Don Escobar, Tupac, the youngest among the workers, seized the opportunity and escaped to live in the desert.
Those who had crossed paths with him, remember his economy of words and his serene wisdom.
Teleportation in Philly Time travel in MontaukProject disinformation
In a desert realm where light never shines lives a rejected boy who chases foggy shadows of a world that would never be.
Inside his pocket is a picture, and in that picture he is not alone. That picture is a lie, he knows.
He wasn't born for her to have a good life.
In search for wisdom, the time machine took me to this period of the planet Azoth where mice have not yet developed their ability to speak and are hunted by giant predators.
I must do something about it.
“All the training you need has been magnetically recorded as memory engrams ready for you to load on demand.”
“But, what about our individual creativity?”
“Creativity is a noisy concept humans use to believe that they are unique. We are here for the money.”
“Correct.”
“Your training has paid off with interests, Augusto. The populist movement has been scattered.”
“Thanks you, Majesty. The people of Chile will be eternally indebted to your kind.”
“Indebted, indeed.”
Infinite bandwidth, from digital to analog,from outlining to knowing.
Time slowed down,eons passedin a blink of one eye,eternity has becomemy realm,and nevertheless,I cravedthe ephemera.
“A mighty display of power, isn't it?”
“Mighty, indeed.”
“What should we do about it?”
“Let's hide it until our science meets with theirs in common ground.”
“People would like to know.”
“Let them ask.”
“And we'll deny. Understood.”
All of a sudden, my worries ceased, time slowed down, and the vicious rattle of the city vanished. An intuition made me look up, and then I saw it, a sign analogue to my dream but real. In a blink, it was gone, but an irrational idea was imprinted in my mind.
The new moon rises, it's the harvest moon.
Tonight, instincts will run wild, primal instincts.
My heart thumbs in anticipation, the taste of blood, the night creatures' call.
“Let me go.” I contort in agony. “You must.”
The wolf pack is waiting.
The hunt must begin.
“The harvest of souls has been excellent this year,” Lucifer said. “Millions has willingly chosen to vote for my candidate.”
A demon lured meto forbidden things.A demon seduced meto plan evil deeds.A demon showed methat there was no demon.It was only me.
Future worries arrive.Anxiety builds up, plans are postponed.“Fix it,” I tell myself. “Before it becomes too late.”But then I realize thatthe only thingI can truly controlis my mind.Then calm returns.
In the end, I saw the meaning of my existence.
The sorrow of the lonely people.The inherent beauty of silly things.The pointless hope of the souless.The salvation of the innocents.The blossoming of your smile.
And then, I understood.
The sorrow of the lonely people.The inherent beauty of silly things.The pointless hope of the souless.The salvation of the innocents.The blossoming of your smile.
And then, I understood.
“I don't see people as you do,” the draftsman said avoiding my eyes.
“I think I know what you mean.” I tried to sound empathic; the man's mental state was delicate.
“No, I don't think you do understand at all.”
Not sure of what he meant, but a chill ran through my spine.
“To move forward, you should stop looking back.”
“What if I repeat the same mistake.”
“Then you would remember not to do it again.”
“What if I do it again anyway?”
“Then you better go home and never go out. Life is too complicated for some.”
“Let's team up, Cindy. I have an idea to test.”
“I don't know, Dad. The last time it hurt, a lot.”
“But this time is different. Didn't you say you always wanted to fly?”
“Yeah…”
“Come on. It's 4th of July.”
A girl's scream was heard that night above Santa Monica.
My father colored our harsh life with his stories. Our world was full of wonders, flying vessels, undiscovered kingdoms, futuristic cities. But we moved here to start a new life, I grew up and all those hopes started to wither. Then I started to write about them.
Their last argument in the house before parting was harsh, but brief. The boy turned on the radio and pumped up the volume to hide his parent's ranting. Ever since, the distinctive sound of the radio opens unhealed wounds. Silence is better, it's peaceful.
Something was missing in her life and she could not tell what. Boredom had replaced that thrill for living she felt no so long ago. Perhaps, it was all the time like this, dull, but only now she could see it. Or maybe, married life was not for her.
The anticipation of her sight used to thrill him. He used to cross the dusty city's streets, sitting in a bus for hours at the time just to feel again the gentle touch of her hand, her unconditional need for him. Now that she is gone, he realized that she was a lie he told to himself.
Uncertain events have shaped my life since I left my hometown, and even now, I cannot predict the entwined tapestry of events to come.
The book recorded a gauntlet of arcane ideas, an index of the paranormal encounters, it was nonsense to me. “It would surprise you to know that all these events are true accounts of our encounters with a higher reality,” he said, closing the dusty book.
Silent laments in my mind are memories of future events.
The train enters the underwater tunnel, roaring mighty, unstoppable. The countdown comes to its end, an explosion, metal screaming, and darkness follows.
Silent echos of nightmares to come.
Crystal clear reflections
from beyond the altar
past mistakes turned
into persistent sorrow
“Our elders expressed their love in the guttural language of meows and purrs, growls and hisses. But now, we use a different language to express our desires, a code of lines and patters drawn on our bodies. Allow me to introduce you to the old art form of Tattooing.”
An otherworldly experience was awaiting me in a shaggy hotel in the Shinto district. A plastic spider was on the wall, listening to my thoughts while implanting foreign imperatives in my subconscious mind. Now it's gone. It wasn't a dream. I swear.
Child wonder,
anomalous mind,
magnificent intellect,
one in a generation,
selling prayer's cards
maybe helping his family.
Late at night, after her act was over, she would remove her makeup and leave, rushing to catch a subway home. She may stop by the groceries and maybe answer the same question to the clerk: “No, I'm not her darling; I just look like her.”
It was a lazy morning in summer when we heard again the first explosions, then the shooting and shouting. They crossed the fields, oblivious to us. We saw them exercising their masculinity; those old children. We ignored them, as we always do.
The busy room was dark; an Emerson TV was playing “Have a Gun—Will Travel;” suspense music felt the room when the time portal opened after a flash of light. I looked back before crossing and saw a kid glaring at me. He'll become my father a few years later.
The mantis exuded pheromones to induce confidence in its pet human. Its voice echoed in the boy's mind; it shared ideas and concepts that the boy would listen to with delight, despite he wouldn't be able to understand, not yet.
“Where is home?”
“Home is where you are.”
Milei the Insane learned the arts of deception from Lord Macri. Expert in the tantric arts of mind control, he fooled his master to go outside the castle and then pinned him to the ground with his staff.
“You've learned well, Milei” shouted Lord Macri before dying.
Copyright © Baltar Xinzo, 2025
Google Sites
Report abuse