Before I grab, or lose your attention, you can now read WHEN FLYING in lorenhasapen.wordpress (link in bio). It’s a horror story, the first one I wrote after a very long flight back home. If you want to know more about purple moons, my story will be waiting for you. There are people and people, but also people with weird aesthetics. When I say weird aesthetics I don’t want to mean distasteful or not normal, even though it’s the meaning of ‘weird’. I’m talking about what we, humans from planet earth, find beauty on. Not about art and history, and evolution, just a more persona detail. But I’m sure that each one of us has a weird aesthetic hidden. I had a friend that loved to dress all green, colour that actually suited her and it was nice to see her dressed like that. She used a very bright shade of green, and quite shined through the people. It wasn’t an average every day. Someone that you could know is this very well-known artist that practice every day until master photorealism with pencils just to draw empty bad chips and cola cans. Because he found beauty in something we wouldn’t even care to look that. There are persons in love with lamps. People that photograph door handlers, even when they are just normal handlers. I, myself, really like dead bugs. Some people might hate them, but I’m pretty sure most of us like them. When they are alive I like to see them walk, specially the beetles. When they die, I like to see them up close, and fill my pockets with dead beetles each time I go to the park. I also like the smell of this shadows set my mother used to use in her teenage years but I never apply it to myself. Paper bags over the head are cheaper, faster and easier. Mark my words. #horror #horrorwriting #horrorstory #horrorfiction #terror #bug #makeup #photooftheday #instafollow #writer #writerslife #writersnetwork #writersofinstagram #writing #iamwriting #writingblog #blog #tumblr #update #writingupdate #writepromotion #writingcommunity #bookstagram #story #storytelling #storylife #fiction #fictionstory

Welcome to the Late Night’s Special Post. This has nothing special at all, but the strange hour. Before we start, I want to make some intercommunicate for you. My latest story, A House Full of Skeletons, is being posted in Jewel E. Leonard blog! ( jeweleleonard.com ) If you want to read the English translations, feel free to go to her page and give it a look! Para leerla en Español, pueden ir directamente a mi blog ( lorenhasapen.wordpress.com ) ¡y leer Una Casa llena de Esqueletos directamente ahí! We are, somehow, taught that everything strange happens at night, and if you are like me, you like to wait up until late for something to happen. I don’t do it anymore, but I constantly think of everything that must be happening while I sleep. A strange radio signal appears at three in the morning and only reproduces a strange message in Morse. A light starts blinking outside your window, someone you thought you would never see again, calling you. The old phone rings and you can hear the voice of the person you will love on the other side; she or he doesn’t know why they called, but they are waiting for you. There is someone you don’t know in the kitchen, but because he is making hot chocolate for you, you decide to let him stay. Then he proceeds to tell you the most fantastic stories, even though he never opens his mouth. The sky turns purple for help a second. You were the only one to see it. You find an old abandoned dinner, open in the middle of the darkness. Looks empty from the outside, but when you enter you find it full. Everything is free to eat, but you are worried at how many of the dishes have eyes. You think you saw someone fly over the starry sky. Then you are pulled up in the air, and she takes you for the longest ride. You are going to be back home late the next day. But well, life is life, and you only get an Instagram post. I hope you have a good late night. #night #nightmare #horror #horrorstory #chat #photooftheday #instafollow #writer #writerslife #writersnetwork #horrorfiction #writersofig #writing #iamwriting #writingblog #blog #tumblr #update #writingupdate #writepromotion #writingcommunity #writerssociety #bookstagram

I was one of those children that never had chicken pox. Or dragon pox (you know, the cool kids have that instead of the chicken normal one). I never had it, and each time I touch the subject by accident, I get the same response: “What? You know it’s going to be worse if you get it when you are old!” Well, what do you want me to do about it? I was diagnosed with asthma when I was eight. I most probably got it from my grandfather (the one the sea took his house away). Even though I never made a big deal out of it (but I still had to take the run test in my gym class, on the cold winter mornings, what a pleasure for someone that suffers from asthma), my mother made sure I took every vaccine shot. And that means every. My fiancé’s mother is a nurse. She has been a nurse for more than thirty years, working on her neighbourhood as in the biggest hospital here in the city. And yet she had never seen a Vaccine Record Book like mine. We had to add extra pages to it, because there wasn’t any space left for the rest of the vaccines. She laughed at the notebook when she saw it. Not even my fiancé has that many vaccines in his medical history, and he is the son of a nurse. He had vaccines for breakfast, literally. He also had a Dog Rabies vaccine instead of the Human Rabies, because she mistook the vials. Apparently is the same. And yet, after all this, in got the cold of the year in the middle of summer, four days before Christmas. With a whole fever, in a 30º degree Celsius weather. I lost my voice almost completely until today. I couldn’t feel my face at all, but the burn of my nose and mouth. I sneezed two boxes and a half of Kleenex. Yet I survived, another year, again. That’s a score, for me. #coffee #coffechat #chat #yesterday #thisweek #coffeecup #photooftheday #instafollow #writer #writerslife #writersnetwork #writersofinstagram #writing #iamwriting #writingblog #blog #tumblr #update #writingupdate #writepromotion #writingcommunity #bookstagram #story #storylife

When I turned thirteen I decided, out of nowhere, that my favourite colour was green, so I did what any sane person would do. That was to paint my room lime green. The colour was so bright that when the morning sun poured from the windows, the room would light up as beautifully as a radiation hazard. My family got to buy the terrain where my house stands now because my mother had a special eye for opportunities. I don’t remember how it looked when my parents bought it the first time, but I’m guessing how empty the grass field would look. The only treasure the place had to offer was the wall of sick elms; a dead soil; and the biggest pine tree any child of the age of five have ever seen. My father designed the house. I didn’t take much, and soon we moved from a little urban apartment in the middle of the city to no-where in the countryside. Two years ago, after more than fifteen years of never touching the house, my parents decided to make a main house make up. We got the entrance redone, because the original design was barely used. We fixed some of the things to do. My mother bought herself so many ‘House re-designing ideas’ magazines she could as well print the entire Pinterest dashboards for the same price. From all this, she got to inform herself that the fashion colour palette working right now was a Nordic Cold/Warm style. So she came for help to the person with self-induced daltonism, showing me four colours barely different, she asked which one was better. It didn’t matter what I answered, it was never enough. She came the next day, still with the entire Pantene colour panel, and three more similar colours. At the end, if she followed my advice or not, I can’t tell. The colours look still similar to me, but the house was finally painted. The green walls of my old room were repainted with Nordic palettes. Meanwhile, I painted mine blue. #colours #design #green #fashion #vintage #house #photooftheday #instafollow #writer #writerslife #writersnetwork #writersofinstagram #writing #iamwriting #writingblog #blog #tumblr #update #writingupdate #writepromotion #writingcommunity #bookstagram #story

I’m happy to say that all the planes crossing the sky right now are going to land safely because the percentage of plane accidents it’s actually quite low. So, if you are interested in planes not landing, go to lorenhasapen.wordpress.com and read my new horror story WHILE FLYING! The first time I ever flew I crossed the ocean. Well, I actually flew from my home city to the capital first, to then I jump into the plane that would take me far away. Still, the message is ‘Let the first time be big’. When we got into the air and the machine made that noise of the wings shaking furiously against the wind, I saw, through the plane window, how my city looked from above and it was a squared shaped mass of dust. I hated my city, and from above it was just a terribly boring looking well in the ground. It hasn’t change ever since. The first travel lasted ten hours in the sky, all across the ocean to Africa and then going up. I remember barely sleeping, looking back and seeing the people like Picasso paintings, the bodies slowly turning into Tetris pieces in the seats. I opened the window when it was dark, thinking that it might be night time, and the light came in like a waterfall. It drowned the cabin. The sky was clear. I could see Africa at my feet, and I wanted to cry. From there the lines of the dunes crossing the empty dessert looked so near and so far away. I couldn’t realise, until that time, how far away was I travelling because it was my first time. Seeing my city from above didn’t trigger me that because I didn’t have any emotional connection. I don’t have any emotional connection. But from the air, the world looked closer enough for me to touch it and I wanted the flight to never end so I could see Africa forever. Then the stewardess asked me to close the bids. #horror #horrorstory #horrorfiction #terror #plane #flight #flying #air #photooftheday #instafollow #writer #writerslife #writersnetwork #writersofinstagram #writing #iamwriting #writingblog #blog #tumblr #update #writingupdate #writepromotion #writingcommunity #bookstagram #story

Before I grab, or lose your attention, you can now read WHEN FLYING in lorenhasapen.wordpress (link in bio). It’s a horror story, the first one I wrote after a very long flight back home. If you want to know more about purple moons, my story will be waiting for you. Today there is no story. Enjoy your photo. Those are the plants of my fishbowl. I don't own any fish. I do have an orange cat. My cat is sleeping in my lap and purrs. When he came home, he was terrified and tried to hide behind the library. He got stuck and I worried to death because I couldn't reach him behind the heavy piece of furniture. He got out, still don't know how. I love him. He is the most stubborn, the annoyest, noisiest and most inconsiderate cat I have the pleasure to know, but he just meow-ed at me while standing in the barely open door of my room, and I had no choice but let him in. He meows like he was raised drinking whiskey instead of milk. No, I don't make those mistakes. Right know everything is as near as okay as it can be. Have a nice Monday. #plants #water #acuatic #acuaticplants #nature #photooftheday #instafollow #writer #writerslife #writersnetwork #writersofinstagram #writing #iamwriting #writingblog #blog #tumblr #update #writingupdate #writepromotion #writingcommunity #bookstagram #story #storytelling #storylife #fiction #fictionstory

I’m running late. Almost like Alice’s White Bunny I’m always’s running late and I’m also wearing a red coat in a Disney animation. I have had the best of pleasures travelling to Japan this year. My parents and I, we took our time to go around Japan, making the most of our times. At first I thought the travel would never come, until I found myself at the middle of March with everything half way done just three days before. Then I thought the travel would never end, and I wanted it that way, until we found ourselves exhausted on our last week in Tokyo. I missed my fiancé, but I didn’t wanted to leave. Now I feel I have lost at least two month since we came back. Almost the day after the plane arrived our country, I was working, and organizing, and finishing. Around that time I decided to get serious with my writing, I started to post here again, to blog again, and I still have so much to do. I started my novel. Yet, it’s November and I’m panicking. I feel I should be in July. Or in August. It’s November and I’m not sure if I have done everything correctly. Remember that time I talked about the sea of molasses? The heat of November didn’t melt the caramel. I feel more stuck, and even more lost than ever. So I take big breaths, and I go back to work. This is a cellphone image. I would love to take my camera outside and work the planes better, but this is what we got today: a November text, a picnic reading of old books, and a flower in a burned page. You should also take a big breaths. Nothing is on fire yet. Until then. #book #flower #spring #pages #letters #vintage #vintagephoto #vintagebook #oldbook #photooftheday #instafollow #writer #writerslife #writersnetwork #writersofinstagram #writing #iamwriting #writingblog #blog #writingupdate #writepromotion #writingcommunity #bookstagram #story #storylife