Train Passengers

Fotografía/photograph: Elena del Rivero Fernández Modelos (de izquierda a derecha)- Actors (from right to left): Carlos Fuenlabrada, Jonatan González, Gonzalo Para, María Prendes, Nicolás Bustos  Peluquería y maquillaje / Hair-dressing and make-up: www.gonzalopara.com

Picture by Elena del Rivero Fernández. Actors (from right to left): Carlos Fernández-Simal Pérez, Jonathan González, Gonzalo Para, María Prendes, Nico Croze. Make-up and hair-dressing: http://www.gonzalopara.com Special Thanks: Lidia Estepa, Isaac M del Rivero, Omar Álvarez García, Fernando Mekolay and Ramón Manso Cabrero

Mar once met a guy who understood the language of the clouds. With a single glance he’d say “that cumulonimbus likes travelling, but that one over there is sad.” One day he convinced the cloud to hide him and Mar was never to see him again. Another boyfriend of hers always found a free seat or spot. It was great for going to exclusive concerts or finding a taxi on a rainy day. But when he found another girl he also took off.

She’d spent months sitting in a station, waiting for a companion. Trains had passed with destinations she would have loved to see, but somewhere she didn’t want to go alone. She checked her watch every now and then and asked herself when he’d show up.

That morning Mar was observing the passengers at the station and trying to guess their talents. It was because she could see them; it was a gift of hers. That one added just the right amount of salt to their food, and that one over there was never late. She kept herself amused while sitting on top of her suitcases, almost bursting at the seams, when a man tapped her shoulder.

I’m afraid you’re going to have to vacate the station,” he said.

This baffled Mar. She looked around and didn’t see anything justifying that claim.

I don’t understand. Is something going on?”

Yes, company policy only allows passengers to wait up to the time of departure.”

Mar squinted and focused on the gray-haired man talking. He was wearing a blue jacket with a matching hat, a silver whistle and a watch on his right-hand wrist. The Station Manager also had the gift of knowing when something had finished and something else was going to start. He knew when somebody was going to die, a woman was giving birth and if summer would come early this year.

I can’t, I need to wait for my companion. I don’t dare go alone!”

A train whistle blew and a steam engine started up. The Station Manager looked at his watch and then at the big station clock hanging over them. He smiled with satisfaction.

Everything here moves to a planned rhythm,” he insisted.

And what happens if I don’t want to go?” she asked him stubbornly.

People were passing them by and the station manager glanced at his watch. The man motioned for her to stand up and Mar obeyed. Then he picked up one of her suitcases and held it midair for a moment.

I see you’ve done a good job. Your cases are heavy, and they’re almost bursting at the seams. It would be a pity to lose everything.”

What are you talking about?” she asked.

Well, people who waste their time waiting for something to happen end up losing other stuff.”

He put the case on a bench, opened a side-pocket and retrieved a skill Mar had kept. He examined it and put it back. “I see you can swim 500 metres without tiring out, and you never burn the cooking,” he said holding both skills between his thumb and index finger, “and you even know how to play an instrument. This won’t do any good from here, where you are right now.”

Mar furrowed her brow and she was silent for a moment as she watched the man take things out of her suitcase, one after another, and put them back again.

I’d keep all of this,” the Station Manager remarked.

Mar looked at the big station clock and its little hands. She had almost forgotten how heavy her suitcases were and the hard work it had taken to pack them. She thought of the years of hard work wasted if this man was just going to snatch them up. She took a step forward, picked up her baggage and moved towards the wagon. The engine turned on just as she was taking a seat.

The wagon started moving ahead, at first slowly and then faster. From her seat Mar could see the passengers going in different directions or waiting. She tried to guess their gifts: that one knew if a smile was sincere or fake and the other one always had warm feet. But none of them were on her train and she and her suitcases would never wait for them again.

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Femme Fatale

Fotografía/Photograph: Elena del Rivero Actores/ Actors: María Prendes, Gonzalo Para. Agradecimientos / Special thanks to : Nicolás

Fotografía/Photograph: Elena del Rivero Fernández
Actores/ Actors: María Prendes, Gonzalo Para.
Maquillaje y peluquería/ Make-up and hairdressing: Gonzalo Para. Agradecimientos / Special thanks to : Nicolás Bustos

I cocked the rifle as he had shown me and aimed.

Don’t do it, sugar.”

Rick was a good guy, but he wasn’t born for the city. I knew since I was bad and sometimes it even hurt me to live there. He wanted to save the weak and every night he would put on his mac , grab his hat and go out into the streets looking for problems. Sigue leyendo

A Moment In Eternity

Fotografía/Picture: Elena del rivero Modelo/Model: Cristina García

Fotografía/Picture: Elena del rivero
Modelo/Model: Cristina García

Time marched by to the beat of the water drops. The woman lay back in the bath, naked and freezing from the cold, asking herself what time and day it was. From there, the world was seen through a misted window. It was sometimes possible to see shadows crossing or hear lost words; but they were nothing more than unrelated parts of distant lives. The life of the living. Sigue leyendo

My pleasure

 

Collage by Lara del Rivero

Collage by Lara del Rivero

He could see the whole city from the roof terrace. The wind swept away the pollution and noise, and it was just the two of them up there: his cigarette smoke and him. He liked going up there to relax. He took a look at his hands, in pain, and saw a small drop of blood on his shirt. Right away he tried to hide it, as if somebody up there would see and ask questions. It was an occupational hazard.

He inhaled the smoke and remembered he didn’t like smoking. He had taken it up as an excuse to go upstairs. Alone, without a single voice within earshot, for a few minutes he could be what he wanted even though he was still the same person.

Sigue leyendo

Number 100, North Avenue.

 

Numero100-avdNorte

Graphite by Lara Del Rivero

What he liked about the city was that it had stayed the same forever, despite the passing of time. From the construction of its vaulted streets, its citizens had been adding sculptures and reliefs to the facades to change it completely. After, during a burst of contention, they conserved it like a treasure. Everything around him changed, but Perla Blanca stayed the same. It was pleasant to walk down at any time.

Álvaro smiled as he walked down one of the covered streets. Above, much further over his head, it was raining. The cold hung around the open streets; it mixed with his favourite jacket and entered the courtyard of a block of buildings. Sigue leyendo