Fotografía por/Photograph Elena del Rivero Fernández. Modelos/Actors: Román Arias y María Entrialgo. Agradecimientos/Special Thanks: Regina Panizo y Francisco Fernández.
The chime clock’s arms reached twelve and a loud dong left the recently oiled machine. Just a few metres away, under the table of what could have been any living room, two lovers were on their knees and crawling towards the middle, far from judging stares.
“I wish time would stand still and we could stay here forever.”
“If time hadn’t existed, this moment never would’ve come,” he smiled.
“There you go again.”
“Time is moments, one after another, like this one which will soon pass.”
“Well I don’t understand it and I don’t like it.”
“Of course! It’s normal you don’t understand. You just got here, you haven’t seen it yet. We’re all blind to time, we only see it when it’s gone by: in photographs, in our memories…”
The second to last bell rang from the living room clock; it was already almost midnight. They looked at each other impatiently.
“Come on, gimme a kiss”, he said.
“I don’t know if we have enough time.”
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
He’d start by gathering all the letters and sorting them. Then he’d sweep a feather duster over the merchandise in the shop window and organize the boxes which hadn’t been put away the day before. First thing in the morning he was always fussed about leaving the shop neat and tidy for potential clients. As soon as everything was organized, he would sit behind the counter and make what he liked most: light bulbs.
There was no way it would’ve been anything else. The lighting shop had lamps, spotlights and light bulbs of all sorts and colours, but they were cold and lifeless objects. Alberto had learned the art of “shedding light” from his grandfather, who had learned it on one of his voyages as a sailor. Sigue leyendo
Acrylic by Elena del Rivero Fernández
Cecilia held the only book she had found in her parents’ house. She thought of all the times she had asked why they couldn’t have more and remembered the sadness of her parents when they told her they couldn’t buy any for her. That day, for once and for all, she decided to put a plan into action which she had spent several days cooking up.
She hugged the book as if it were leaving her, and left it at the bottom of a small hole she had dug in the forest.
“If paper comes from trees, by planting a book more like this will grow,” she told herself again and again. Sigue leyendo