Sebastian Chalela
Bio
Writer, Concept Artist, Translator.
Stories (8)
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Dun Violinist
He thought he would be able to feel my soft skin. He thought he would be able to lay his chubby, greasy fingers on my svelte silhouette. Grave mistake. My mind is faster than all of his clumsy moves, none of which would have been able to take me by surprise; never! A pig, like all the rest. A poor, slow, slob of a pretender. Hahaha… and now that he has fallen prey to my kiss nothing can save him.
By Sebastian Chalela3 years ago in Fiction
Eve of Dawn
Eva was exhausted. She could feel the fibers of her muscles stretched thin from carrying the fruit baskets, wheat baskets, barley baskets, and water jugs back and forth from the fields or the well to her house. Day in and day out it was the same routine: get up to the cock’s song right before the first rays of the sun pierced the clouds, milk the cows, collect the eggs from the hens’ nests, get dry firewood for the stone oven, light it, grind the cereals while the oven reached an ideal temperature, prepare breakfast for her children and husband. Eat. Clean out all the dishes, sweep out all the sand blown in from the desert, and spend the rest of the morning going back and forth to the fields, well, and house, until it was time for lunch, then prepare lunch for her kids and husband. Eat. Head back to the fields if the season was one for planting seeds or growing crops or harvesting, or weave clothes to exchange with her neighbors for other products, or to cover her children’s and husband’s indignities through the harsh winter.
By Sebastian Chalela4 years ago in Fiction
Mirrors
Mirrors Amanda woke up happy that morning. She had been looking forward to this Saturday as she had every other Saturday before it since she couldn’t remember when. It was the day her mother came to visit, and she always brought her candy. Boy! how she dreamt about the sugar treats, the translucent red hearts, the multicolor striped pops, the gumballs, the gummy bears, and the tooth snatching caramel. Their smell always took her back to the happiest moments of her childhood, to the dizzying effect of the web whirl spinner at the park, the high flights on the swings, the fantastic adventures she had with the fairies in the sandbox; and their taste! Oh, sweet heavens! It always felt like a party in her mouth. She especially loved the flowy explosion that tingled the sides of her tongue whenever sweet and sour, gooey liquids mixed, or the feel of melted chocolate sliding down into her belly, warming her up from inside.
By Sebastian Chalela4 years ago in Fiction
The Cave of Revelation
The carpenter hid his tools behind a thorny bush, tied a knot to hold his beard, and entered the cave. A few meters in, sunlight no longer penetrated the darkness, so he was not able to rely on his sense of sight; the only light left was the one inside his own blue-green eyes. He took off his sandals as he had done the very first day he was brought there, and every other day after that, as the Sage had instructed. The jagged stone ground was so cold that it hurt the soles of his feet; caves in the middle of the snowy mountains were nature-made freezers where the locals could usually keep uncooked meat for days. No animal flesh would be found in this particular place though. This was his Teacher’s abode, a holy shrine, a sanctum for the illumination of the soul and the evolution of humanity; only life was allowed inside.
By Sebastian Chalela4 years ago in Fiction
Deep Dive
It had been quite a dive up until that moment, and I was starting to feel like all of the previous training and practice had not really prepared me for what I was facing; the dread that maybe I was out of my depth and about to drown kept staring me in the face with rows of pearly white, snickering teeth. I had been managing my air, inhaling deeply, slowly, making each exhale as prolonged as possible. I kept bringing my focus to the sometimes hissy, sometimes echoic sound of my breath, going inside myself, searching for calm; but my racing heart kept booming between my ears, pounding as if to escape my chest, and the burning sensation that flowed up and down my throat like an acid yoyo would not allow rest. I knew I would not be able to keep it up much longer: I was suffocating. The spotlight that had started off almost like a beacon of hope kept moving around, getting dimmer, and the different colors of the environment around me were mixing with one another. Blue, green, yellow, and purple were no longer distinguishable; they blended into a bubbly mass of dirty gray before my eyes. I felt dizzy, totally disoriented, and for a second I could not tell which way was up. Floors turned into walls, transformed into fractured glints that broke all perspective, denied or exploded three-dimensional space, disappeared, and reappeared all at once.
By Sebastian Chalela4 years ago in Fiction
