"So we've accomplished our plan. How does it feel?" In the back seat, Ah Yung slaps the capybara's belly, which rings out like a ripe watermelon.

Some sentences are a kind drizzle. Others are evil hurricanes. Words eat words. The words are cannibals.

Sounds from the outside world were already diminishing, reduced to raspy gusts pirouetting restlessly before fading into an air drenched with odd, darkening colors. Now it was the beating of his heart that began to disturb the silence.

Let’s say her name was Llucia and I didn’t know how to love her...

At the end of November, the angels appear in the forest. They arrive with the first frost.

But in most writing workshops today, unfortunately, students are taught to write without fear and with their head held high.