Ulter Damin
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Stories (6)
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"The Choice"
Manuel Vega had always been a man plagued by suspicion. From childhood, the world seemed to him a labyrinth of deception and betrayal. He saw conspiracies lurking behind his parents' smiles, lies masked by his siblings' embraces, and falsehoods woven through politicians' promises. But nothing could have prepared him for the suspicion that now gnawed at his mind like a relentless parasite: his wife, Laura, was having an affair with his best friend, Javier.
By Ulter Daminabout a year ago in Fiction
The Awakening of Shadows
In the sprawling metropolis of New Beijing, where neon lights battled the perpetual toxic fog for dominion of the night sky, Alex Chen sat before a wall of screens, his fingers dancing over holographic keyboards. The soft blue glow illuminated his face, casting shadows that accentuated the dark circles under his eyes - medals of honor in his relentless pursuit of truth.
By Ulter Daminabout a year ago in Fiction
Life's Box of Chocolates
What a day! It's fascinating how everything makes sense when I put it down on paper. As if the universe, in its infinite wisdom (or perhaps its twisted sense of humor), had decided to serve me the grand cake of existence on a silver platter, winking and whispering: "Let's see what you do with this, Sophie." And here I am, fork in hand, wondering where to start eating.
By Ulter Daminabout a year ago in Humor
"Where Love Never Dies"
Dr. Emilio Vazquez watched the light fade from his wife Elena's eyes, her final breath a whisper against his cheek. Thirty years of marriage vanished in an instant, leaving his world drained of color. The hospital, once his second home, transformed into a labyrinth of cold, sterile corridors, each turn a stark reminder of his devastating loss.
By Ulter Daminabout a year ago in Fiction
The Last Blink
The heart monitor emitted a constant beep, a mechanical reminder that life still persisted in that time-worn body. A trembling hand, crisscrossed with prominent blue veins, rested on the white hospital sheets. The fingers twitched slightly, as if trying to grasp a fleeting memory.
By Ulter Daminabout a year ago in Fiction
