A picture speaks a thousand words
"The say a picture speaks, or paints, or is worth a thousand words. Well, the students of English at the EOI did not have to write so many words, but some of them put pen to paper and wrote some stories based on a photograph. Some of you did really well, as it was difficult to choose the lucky winners. For them, a picture is not worth a thousand words, but 200 euros.
The stories have also been published on http://1picture1000words.tumblr.com and will be recorded so that you can hear the authors spinning their tales on Raibabel.
Congratulations to all the winners and good luck for the next edition of the literary contest.
Just read below and enjoy the stories."
And for the first time in my life I felt happy
I saw him in front of the Language School in Iruña and I don’t know why, but I started to follow him. I was very nervous but it didn’t matter, I was so, so excited.
Ten minutes later we arrived at Gayarre theatre. At the front door there was a sign which said “Casting 17.30”.
He went in and so did I. Suddenly I saw myself naked, queuing, ready to dance. It was so embarrassing…! It was my turn and few minutes later I was dancing with him and I freaked out with his hip movements and his touch.
At first I felt strange when I started feeling his sweet and nasty hands around all my body. I couldn’t stop it because, while he was touching me, my cock was getting like a rock.
He whispered “I’m Charles”, and then I said “Nice to meet you.”
Leire Carranza, Intermedio (Commended)
In the middle
She had just gone to buy some pieces of fruit in the shop near her little house. The day was a little grey, it was going to rain, but suddenly everything became dark.
When she looked at her front, she saw a barrier of antiriot police forbidding her to go on. She felt a horrible cold from the head to the fingers of her toes, holding her little kid and protecting him of any danger that watched.
-Please, let me go. I wanted to buy something in that shop- said to a police agent.
In a moment, a big group of armed people with sticks and stones appeared behind her, and she realized she was in danger. She was between police and furious people, between a lion and a deer, between a cat and a mouse. Her heart started to burn on a scream of fear.
She screamed. However, her voice wasn’t powerful enough to be listened by people whose voices were higher than hers.
Somebody pushed her towards the shield of one of the police agents. Moreover the policeman pushed her too, and her back hit the group of people, but she could maintain the balance. After that, she felt another hit again, her head went against a police agent, she fell down. She embraced her son strongly, promising him to escape.
She stood up very frightened. Finally, she received another hit in her head. She stopped feeling her son.
And everything came into luminous white.
Roberto Juániz, Intermedio
(Winner Category Intermedio)
Unexpected finish
The Lucky man’s Day is a holiday celebrated on August 15th in Villafortuna, which is a small village on the Coast of Azahar in the province of Valencia. In this day the youngest men of the Villafortuna do a swimming race in the sea from the beach to an uninhabited island called Malvarrosa. The distance is about four kilometres. According to folklore the race’s winner will have a long and successful life. The Lucky man’s Day celebration is known since 1700.
But, what happened this year?
The sky was blue and the sea was calm, then suddenly the men stopped swimming and looked up. They couldn’t believe what they were seeing: Malvarrosa had disappeared! Where was the finish of the race? The island was submerged! They became frightened... What was happening in the sea? Were they in danger? Was the village safe?
A mistery to discover...
Marisol Contin, Básico 2
(Winner Category Básico)
I was there, adrift
I remember clearly how I was there, early in the morning, shivering with nearly frozen waters, wondering why I had decided to take part in that fool competition. The answer was obvious: I was unemployed and my thirst for adventure was over the top at that age.
I was moving legs and arms, trying to get my breath back. A piece of advice from my psychologist came up to me- “in awkward situations that you can not avoid try to draw pleasant images in your mind”. So I closed my eyes and achieved to see the cosy corner of my sofa at home as Mary caressed my hair locks. Unfortunately, that mental trick worked only for a while. After that, the strong effect of the cold water strong effect overturned the remaining agreeable thoughts.
I was not alone, but this fact didn’t really relieve me. On the contrary, I would have liked to be the only one candidate applying for the appealing job as a lighthouse keeper. We were hundreds of braves willing to get over all the rought tests. Such a meaty occupation somewhere in the ends of the earth was worth the effort.
There were twelve events to overcome -like the twelve labours of Hercules-, including physical, psychological and theorical tests. That one involved standing adrift over the waves and later, checking the competitors’ vital signs.
I was not alone, no. And some of my colleagues had decided not to wear any T-shirt. It was up to you but some had said that half point was going to be added to your global score in that case.
I remember clearly how I passed all the tests with very good marks. I was resolute to get the job. And I got it.
And here I am, keeping the lighthouse, bringing the light to these long nights in the far side of the bloody nowhere: amazing cliffs around, intense red sunsets, and terribly solitary hours alone.
I close my eyes and I try to draw a pleasant image of Mary caressing my hair locks.
Ainhoa Arnaiz Tomé, C1
(Winner Category Avanzado/C1)