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2024 - Carlos del Puente
Carlos del Puente relatos

The Mender of Broken Dreams. By Carlos del Puente

lunes, diciembre 30, 2024
The Mender of Broken Dreams, a man whose name no one remembered—a name lost in the recesses of time—lived in a house built of antique mirrors… mirrors that reflected distorted realities and fragments of forgotten dreams. His workshop, nestled in a dusty attic… an attic where cobwebs glowed with phosphorescent light, was a labyrinth of strange and wonderful objects… objects that seemed to...

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The Dance of the Rusty Scissors and the Symphony of Lost Raindrops. By Carlos del Puente

lunes, diciembre 30, 2024
The Dance of the Rusty Scissors wasn't simply a dance; it was a manifesto, a rebellion against existential monotony, a silent scream against the uniformity of time. It unfolded in the city of Atemporal, a place where clocks refused to tell the time, where the sun rose and set at random, and where rain fell as discordant musical notes.The protagonist was a woman...

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The Dissidents of Harmony. By Carlos del Puente

lunes, diciembre 30, 2024
The Dissidents of Harmony were not a sect, a political party, or an armed revolution. They were, simply, a group of individuals united by a peculiar obsession: dissonance. They lived in Chromatica, a city where harmony was mandatory, where every sound, every color, every movement was carefully orchestrated to produce a symphony of perfect, unbearable uniformity.  The houses were monochromatic cubes, aligned in...

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Once suspicion took root in the world, there was nothing good left to hope for. By Carlos del Puente

lunes, diciembre 30, 2024
Once suspicion took root in the world, there was nothing good left to hope for. This phrase, etched in smoke letters across the twilight sky of Aethelred, resonated with the glacial certainty of a collapsing glacier. Aethelred, a city built upon a gigantic hourglass that never emptied, had sunk into existential paranoia. Before, the tick-tock of the clock had been a cosmic lullaby;...

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The Banquet of Shadows. By Carlos del Puente

domingo, diciembre 29, 2024
In a village forgotten by time, where the hours slipped like fish in a honey river, an unknown law began to weave its strange tapestry. This law, whispered among the walls of houses and the canvases of museums, altered the perspective of all the paintings. Windows became mirrors, and doors were passages to worlds that never existed.The first victim was Doña Eleonora, an...

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