Tag Archives: fiction

Malahat Review – Seamless Stories Haunt

Posted on December 12, 2013 by escritorto

The January 2014 issue (#185) of the University of Victoria’s Malahat Review features a review of The Green and Purple Skin of the World.   Fiction Review by Norma Lundberg The Green and Purple Skin of the World: Stories by … Continue reading →

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The Scent of a Lie

Posted on November 23, 2013 by escritorto

  We never carried ill intentions towards Camila Penca. We simply prayed for our village’s old peace to be restored and, thank God, He answered our prayers. Camila was born into a well-bred family in our respectable village nestled on … Continue reading →

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Vera

Posted on November 21, 2013 by escritorto

  Vera rested, curled in the shade of the womb, meditating on the journey ahead, inch by inch building strength and filling with readiness; readiness, invisible as air that inflates lungs and lends might to voice, invisible as wind that … Continue reading →

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Pleasant Troubles

Posted on September 7, 2013 by escritorto

A sudden, involuntary flaring of his tongue, a hideous contortion of his face; and apart from this peculiar affliction, Bonifácio Careta remained an ordinary child. The villagers believed everyone entered life with unique, God-given graces—some born to nose-picking, others to … Continue reading →

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Flies

Posted on August 23, 2013 by escritorto

  Foot raised on the shoe-box, Senhor Osório sat at the entrance to the tavern enjoying the overdue shine. The question mark of his cane supported his thoughts as he rested his chin on the wrinkled knuckles clasping the wood. … Continue reading →

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Not Written in Pencil

Posted on June 23, 2013 by escritorto

Arial and I weren’t bad people or nothing, just different spark plugs misfiring under the same hood. It’s like this. Arial lived for now. I lived for tomorrow’s bills. I‘m not thinking she exemplified a young case of Alzheimer’s or … Continue reading →

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The Green and Purple Skin of the World

Posted on April 23, 2013 by escritorto

Dear B,                                                  Quinta da Garrida, courtyard three weeks   The morning yawns and sighs in the lungs of the birds. I begin the day on the front steps, in my bathrobe, blowing soap bubbles. The birds’ harmonies melt the thin … Continue reading →

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My Real Mother Would Never

Posted on April 4, 2013 by escritorto

From “My Real Mother Would Never” (The Green and Purple Skin of the World) by paulo da costa:  I didn’t plan on running away. It happened. You stare at me from down the street, and when we cross paths, you … Continue reading →

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Immortality

Posted on November 27, 2012 by escritorto

  Vera rummaged in the wood crate overflowing with fluffy moss she and her brother had collected that morning in the pine woods behind her parents’ riverside home. The moss’s cool softness dampened her fingers. After careful inspection, she found … Continue reading →

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A Millstone, Always a Millstone

Posted on November 24, 2012 by escritorto

The blessed water trickled upon the infant’s sleep, pronouncing him Maria das Dores.  His cry of betrayal echoed in the serene sanctuary, pleading upwards to the gothic columns, where it ricocheted from the stone ears of the Saints, deaf from … Continue reading →

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