lucky me, unlucky you

Corporeal nature:
my disguisting me...
why this willing to be invisible but the desire for to be shared with deeply tenderness? now the whole continue scene seems just thorny and full of despair.

It has been time, lots of time, if not all of my life;
those longed careless I have dreamed to enjoy still are just
uneasy and surreal fantasies that I'm afraid only will be that
what a relief! nothing...
what a blind, so many wasted chances, just memories now,
what a fool, so much fear and repression, whats my reward anyway?
what a selfish, am I not for myself? why?
that's me and the nonesense passing time of my mind, brilliant! isn't it?
reality and illusion, I have this name to whisper at the wind when I find myself alone
I have this images, photos, bits of some distant basis or special ocassion
I have conversation, I have words...
I have...
nothing to yell at no one, solitude, solitude
and despite all of this I am happy now.

So... how do you miss something... someone you never owned?
could be just a different kind of view and mindset? dreams?
what's with that letter you never sent? so much to talk about yet
well... even "time" hurts sometimes
lover of deceivings, it's that still my label, oh... the past
what if... I am fooling myself with what I desire?
how can I daydream with that what I am dying for?
and feel such repulsion at the same time.
just shyness, but that's not an excuse
I don't want to be the antithesis of your illusions
but I don't want to say either:
"I wish you farewell".

Now, I'm still not sure about what I lacking of, anyway...
something I'm not wanting to know
those... disguisting... always... me...
my fears and emotional and turmoils, my facade
they won't die alone.

dilemma

where and how should I start?
maybe... uncovering what those veils have been hiding from me for so many time but tenderly bearing only a witness role from my part?
observing how your natural shape is being revealed,
second by second, and I know what's there already
a sanctuary; no more dreams, no more mysteries
it won't be a "farewell" to my fantasies though,
notwithstanding the selfcontrol this it's all contrary,
because even then it would be impossible
not to get roaming and get lost for staring your
angelical form, poem subtle craved onto flesh
no disguises or tricks, just...
you.

where and how should I start?
maybe... fullfiling that awkward but melacholic desire and anxiety for caress?
anxiety for to play, anxiety for to feel, anxiety for reaction...
desire for torture, for joy, for discovering...
desire just pure desire
the blending of earthy instinct and heaven's wisdom: this... rapturous touch
burning charcoal and ice
should be solace or despair the feeling after being turned into ashes
by the mere approaching to your body?.
overwhemed, for the first time due to the longed,
the awarned... freedom!
when all would be finally and really
granted.

where and how should I start?
maybe... pouring all over your skin the passion and wrath that my lips can also display?
molding that which my poor imagination
just have restrained for my sake, for so long
yet it would be so unsufficient maybe,
betrayed by my own lack of experience again.
the sweetest of that taste I always hungered for,
endless territory for searching and delighting of course,
breath, sweat, getting close, getting far, smell, sense,
would I be able to feel your thoughts?
sliding here and there, hiding.
feeling myself, feeling you
mine.

sundays were not made for to cry...

:'(

the title itself speaks alone, who cares anyway?, there are and have been worse situations, why worry? and... blah blah blah.
it will pass, I'm sure (I'm optimistic enough right now for to say that it will pass, it must pass...)
when will come the day to say "goodbye" to my loneliness and i wont feel scared for to be in real company?
should I be missing the moping but more realistic me? that... more logical and... "strong", out of touch, out of (more) harm?

No!

once upon a muse

Reading an important part of my life can be done in our wrotes
so many things shared and so many for to share yet, thats my hope
four letters with such a trascendental meaning for me now
a gift, a not deserved present... but the one I have been looking for
a miracle that somehow managed its way to found me
powerful encouraging force, bringer of future, hopes, changes.
she brought more than a simple friendship, a caring and loving hand
powerful... powerful destroyer as she could also be.

Offering myself for the very first time, anxiety full of fears though

a pool of questions without answers, naive and stupid, mistake after mistake

facing the odds I find my strenght in her strenght and my doubts in her doubts

What kind of twisted path is this one I choosed for? we choosed for?

that what I hoped, I always wanted, just dreamed and always searched for

but... I never lived, I never experienced, still dreamed and just longed

where is she now? why not here? why not close? why not together?

never sure about anything, but... here I am

She is the girl of my eyes, she is the princess of my story,

she is the queen of my heart, she is the woman to love, to live, to die for

she is my dream, she is my reason for to dream, she is here, she is there,

she is everything, my everything... my always distant everything

rain and muteness, cold and comfort, safe haven and cruel despair
what my sad hours claim for, what circunstances made mockering

a prayer in the long rung and a reminder deep thought
for her precense... her absence... is not killing me.

Even before my illusions get an owner, her graceful spirit encouraged me
unspoken and empty promises just made to myself, already...
forgotten as I am taken by the sight of her smile, her beautiful smile.
curvs that never look so smooth and fine in a female body, melting... calling
drops of sweat evoking future and possible escenes; are we ready?
what it is the purpose in all this behaving? hushing never helped beforewhat am I doing? what should I do? not betraying myself again!
my commmitmet, thats for sure.

puesta al dia

Anhelos, profundos anhelos que me agobian ultimamente, mas que eso... tal vez... solo un carnal y primitivo desenfreno; merezco este "encierro" acaso?, merezco estar aun en esta inmutable situacion? en mi cinismo refuto un NO! Hay un mañana eso lo se, pero ahora esa palabra significa algo mas, renunciante a los distractores como debo ser ahora, se puede decir que recobro mi ceguera, pero... vaya precio eh pagado! ya no hay pureza o ignorancia, mucho menos aquella ingenuidad que otrora fuera causa de mofa.

Fecundo como veo todo ahora, no existe mas reposo, solo el tormento que encuentro en estos deseos de satisfaccion, de interaccion; bienvenido al olvido debo añadir, este es el otro lado, otro error a causa de mi inexperiencia, no deberia ser un secreto, pero el ser consumido es solamente una carga personal, cual es mi esperanza ahora? una que no puedo tocar pero si sentir, una que no puedo abrazar pero si ver, ver en la distancia y en mi egoismo, retener y desear solo para mi.

Truinfo? solo el tiempo lo dira...

so... suddenly

What do you want to say when you never speak to me?
you say, I don't tell, nothing slips, all spoken through words restrained
an unconscious set up, yet after a look to that body, that imagine...
is this a war?, skin and emotions; this is an art, thats all that I know
and I know nothing about, wish...ignorance... what's the bliss?
you want me, I want you, not denial, not truth, just hope
there would be comfort with short space? not control maybe
feelings aroused, feelings sprung, feelings that come and go, always there
like the hunger alway present for a caress, so simple answer, Im a mirror
flesh in the end we are, waves of frustrating memories, guiltiness
a nonesense finding, a spirit dreaming, a message in that cleavage
a path already choosen with such a clear ending, not time to sleep
you are moving, emotion and sensuality, overflow of surrealism, fascination
not here, not there, lost in measures of unfair physical distance
hopeless and scared, longing and yearning
though... for the very first time
not alone.

have fun on your guilt trip!

woa...
a path I forgot that existed...
yet the mental "scars" and the weigth of my conscience follow me
not big deal now :D

against my pleasure

so volatile I can be sometimes, happy or sad, "existing" now but at the same time just longing so bad for... my own death, could I be wrong at those moments when I found some pleasure in pain? though just only in mind, so coward still, haven't reach the real bottom I suppose.

yet... I feel so odd when I am just seen by fools who can't hear me, actually being ignored (invisible) is some part of my longing alike as just being found, loved and so many other pathetic and romantic dreams, yeah so pathetic, since I'm not sure who needs who in the end, not me?, not... who? what's my real hope?

so, as I lie as I pretend to cope, faking, pretending, smiling, yeah, its a waste, no? I shouldn't be waiting for anything else in this tasteless life, every time, all stuff, reminds me how useless can I be sometimes, living here, yes, now, but not real, should I be stupid as the rest of the passing crowd in front of me whom look so unaware, so neutral, so conformist about their plain living basis (I know I'm so wrong since I must recognize how real worse their current situation could be)

what now? I can't forever hide myself under a blanket on my bed, in lieu instead a darkest and dirty corner, last haven for me, nothing can't reach me, no one can't see me, still reluctant to cry aloud, but as always just rambling in my own, am I lost?

what I am just willing to believe in the end? not in a quick solution that disappoint the few souls I care, and despite they are like a burden, I even can't hate no one by now, I'm the only blame... my bitter and moping me

trying, crying, waiting

wishing to banish

so inevitable?

grey, just grey

Suddenly, unespected, thats how rain started

there it goes my blue sky...

shoud i complain? just a color reference, no more, no less

now thats not a good signal, since im not hopeful

just a reminder of what I can and what i cannot to do

who is the one that allow such nonsense?

sad... not even able to running through the rain to hide my tears

just a lull that doesnt even help to sleep

and as time has stopped

I can say im not wasting my minutes here just for

hypnotic watching the raindrops like sparks

a wave of gloom that will last for a week (that's for sure)

there are more of this reasons for to feel just sadness than

the will to keep faking it all with a smile

"am I feeling happy?"

...I guess that not.

shame living

They say that Filipa used to spent most of her afternoon time sitted alone, crying in one of the sidewalk corners of the old town's hall, totally covered by a dirty cloak made of used and worn clothes, her face was never seen by any of the inhabitants not even after what happened last sunday of that december. In spite of never talk to anyone, not even a single word, not even a sorrowful complain, every person in the town of St. Yaeps knew her.

They say that Filipa was like the solo survivor of the terrible fire that swallowed the whole town twenty-two years ago, was her face hidden because of terrible scars due to that incident? no one will know that; now all the "remaining" population in the town have no more that fifteen years living there and like in all little settlings away from the chaotic urbanism, they pretend that some incidents never happened, I am not allowed to say no more that a few words and that because some "historic" facts notwithstanding the total oblivion for the common sake must be taken in consideration, lessons? probably; now I must say that the persons don't deserve to be forgotten (a required change in my opinion) .

They say that the sunday morning (when "all" began), after the usual church service, Filipa was seen chasing her only living companion in the town, a little dog (without trace of race) across the central square, why it was running that animal like that in first place? nobody knows, but what "he" did after approaching the main door of the temple was the beggining of all, the Mayor's wife suffered (maybe) the worse scare in all her life... summarizing, let's say that the dirty dog barked at her, not a crime actually and that it would be even funny, then the Mayor himself, totally full in anger kicked the little animal againts one of the walls of the church (a little ironic after the sermon of that day, but anyway), probably enough punishment for such behaviour, why he attempt to shoot to the animal afterwards? even with the crowd just laughing and mocking, some muttering and encouraging not to stop the savagery, Filipa puts her own body as a shield, its a shame that her sacrifice was totally useless.

They say that Filipa was possibly like a close relative of the Mayor itself or either his wife, or was someone that probably he and his family already knew, someone actually not so important, no one knows the real facts, but he shooted himself a couple of days after that, followed by his wife and one of his sons, and oddly like two tens of different persons in the following months, almost one every sunday, some strange and mysterious relates behind all that deaths that are not relevant for this wrote was that caught my atention to translate the few info I managed to obtain into this journal, truth be told, I just lived there a couple of months (prior this incident), I even saw this creepy character almost daily from the window of the hotel, and as everyone in that town I pretended and wished such low level person was like... invisible.

unwanted

a bonding... spiritual, phisic, or just simply emotional is always what we are like destined to look for, some seems never care for that, curious fact? are you important for someone else in the way you always wanted? such stupid ideal, such pathetic vision.

a delusion world...is where we are living, but we created, from the very first stone and primitive stone till the beliefs (and hope?) of something more worthly beyond our death, this is the way a hollow and hopeless heart should be thinking? (yeah... the heart never has been in charge of that function, why did I say that in first place?)

a facade... thats what I see everyday, everytime, how this beings somehow equal and as I see it also probably better that me, get all this nerve to lie behind a simple smile or seductive and comfort words? why their "preys" are so blindly naive, even I can see that! but... since no one notice me...

where are we leading for? to an stupid ending for sure

with the banal way of view of this days...

I am not like them, im even worse

why I feel so lonely then?

consecuencias

una sonrisa de mi parte, vaya falacia, vaya apariencia... se dice que se comparte algo al hacerlo, puede ser... pero no lo siento de esa forma, es un mas como un vacio vacío.

solo llegan los recuerdos alegres que a la vez traen depresión, tan inevitable como estas lágrimas que creo... jamas acabaran.

aun me pregunto el porque de tu llegada a mi vida? como persona, como modelo, como amiga... que tortura, y asi... dudo al pensar si retrocediendo el tiempo volvería de nuevo a decir "hola?"

no busco compasión, diría que no la merezco, otra mentira... quien necesita mas de una mano fraternal? tiempo en que ocuparse? que debió ser desde un comienzo? pero... si, lo he pensado y lastimosamente (tal vez afortunadamente) valentía no es conmigo.

jamas he visto tus expresiones, tus miradas... que haces cuando te digo algo imprevisto? no quisiera cruzar el limite, se que no debo, soy arrogante, egoísta, indeciso... que mundo ilusorio es este en el que estoy.

solo, aun asi es mi vida, mi mundo, no... ya no mas, por eso ya no quiero seguir así, fingiendo... lamentando... aunque mi corazón sea tan cobarde y se arrepienta de todo, aunque mi voluntad sea tan débil y siempre sucumba, aunque mi alma muera por pertenecer a alguien; que fueron todas estas mentiras al final?
o solamente... llegue tarde de nuevo?

lo se, lo se... mi destino como espectador; mi consuelo: tus palabras de amor y cariño, porque dijiste aquello que te diferenciaba de todas esas personas antes de ti? alego el no hacer promesas por respeto hacia los demás... aun asi... decepción... arrepentimiento...
algo con lo que no quiero lidiar

mentiras

me gusta el silencio que produce el viento

no es la brisa, no es el vacio,

mas no es del todo ese sigilo misterioso

quizás solo una fachada que cubre tu verdad

tal vez solo un mensaje oculto entre cientos

ese silencio, que incluso sale de tu boca cuando hablas

no es lo que dices, no es lo que expresas

pero no es lo que omites, lo que "olvidas"

ni siquiera aquello que tus ojos callan, no miento

pues no sabes como incluso aprecio tu silenciosa compañía

tus dulces mentiras, alivio de mi alma

silencio perpetuo, inexorable, mas no incomodo

me gusta el silencio que me rodea, malas ideas?

que son las palabras? mis palabras?

algo de que hablar

se acaba el tiempo, se acaba la vida,
y aunque fuera de alcanze... se acaba el amor
cosa inexplicable? vaya rutina
como todo, que queda después?
lágrimas (de tristeza o felicidad)
recuerdos, juramentos, promesas, temores...
acaso solo la muerte es la única salida?
más que tiempo perdido para muchos, quizás
como todo... pasa y se va,
y eventualmente llegará a mí la soledad
mis sentimientos, mis tormentos, placeres?
el anhelo del disfrute de un cuerpo
odio esta sensación...
debo rendirme? que mas da?
porque titubeo entonces?
como todo, es mi opción al fin y al cabo
mas que una promesa de mi degradación
intercambio mis prejuicios por mis instintos
ridicula situación con la que he he topado
fuera de mi decisión? no soy yo?
lo que no se supone que sea
simplemente...
no será!
como todo en mi vida
todo lo que quiero...
no será!

contraste

De seguro llegara una noche (para mí) donde ni siquiera habrá una luna a la que se pueda llorar, no habrá lugar para esconderse, de hecho no habrá nada de que huir, ya no habrá nadie siquiera a quien mirar.

Mientras me siga lamentado por aquello que aun no ha sucedido, yo se que solo te alejare mas y mas, eventualmente seras solo un nombre, un recuerdo confuso, una amiga, un porque...

Quien necesita a quien en esta vida? la luna es igual aquí y allá? porque siempre el contraste entre lo que se debe y no hacer a pesar de tanto deseo? Maldita consciencia...

Dime que me espera en la oscuridad, al final de este día, en la solitaria noche?; otra decepción de mi parte es lo que temo, me di cuenta que no puedo esperar nada mas...

solo el no lastimarte pero... solo como un quizás.

opciones

"... y ya hablaste con Mario? desde que llegaron no pude evitar notar que no parece estar en sus mejores días, sabes?" dijo Clara mientras le pasaba una taza de café negro a su nieta mayor a la vez que acercaba una silla para sentarse a su lado en la pequeña mesa de desayuno en la cocina.
"emmm... no... porque?" respondió Ivonne aun algo soñolienta
"bueno, que tanto significa el para ti?"
"y a que viene todo esto, abue?, tu misma sabes q lo conozco desde hace... como diez años, y siempre ha sido un..."
"amigo" interrumpió Clara
"si.. y cual es tu punto exactamente abue?, mi cabeza aun da vueltas, así que... si pudieras ser un poco mas especifica te lo agradecería"
Clara se levanto de la silla y se dirigió al aparador para servirse también una taza de café, cuando lo preparo, tomo un pequeño sorbo, le agrego mas agua, dio la vuelta hacia su nieta, la miro con toda la calma del mundo (como suelen mirar las personas adultas y sabias) luego suspiró
"escuchame Ivonne: siempre existen estas formas de tratar a la gente, tu sabes, a veces somos tan descuidados, tan egoístas que nos olvidamos de apreciar que a pesar de que no todos nos demuestran lo que verdaderamente sienten, me refiero a que estamos tan envueltos en nosotros mismos, en nuestros planes que ignoramos a ..."
"ay no, es sobre pá y má su obsesión en contra de Alex, no? abue! yo pense que estabas de mi lado en esto? ahora que todo esta marchando tan perfecto... sabes que por fin ascendieron a Alex en su trabajo y muy pronto dejara a esa otra cretina y nos podremos organizar juntos y mis padres no podrán volver a molestarme y..."

"sabes que no me molesta que tu y tus amigos me visiten, sin embargo, si vas a traer a este... Alex de nuevo seria prudente que no fuera a estas horas de la madrugada y que no..."

"oh, ya veo, digo, nos... escuchaste..."

"querida mía, TODOS en el edificio te escucharon, digo los escucharon a ambos y..."

"Dios, lo siento abue, yo, por Dios, que vergüenza, pero sabes que no lo veía desde hace cuatro meses y... - la mirada fija de Clara hizo que pausara y por un momento se detuviera a pensar en sus palabras antes de pronunciarlas - te defraude, no es asi abuela? te decepcione a ti también, tienes razón fui una tonta, soy una tonta"

"tu nunca podrás decepcionarme hijita, aunque sufro por ti al ver como a veces diriges tu vida asi tan... y a lo que me refiero es... a que vinieron tu y tus amigos en primer lugar? no quiero decir que no disfrute de su compañía por un fin de semana, todo lo contrario"

"bueno... Claudia esta sin trabajo, AUN!!! y Mario, creo que le escuche que termino con esa otra niña que tenia, y para animarlos, pues... que mejor plan que un pequeño viaje a este hermoso y tranquilo pueblo un par de días como para levantar el espíritu? ellos me han acompañado en muchos, muchisicisimos malos momentos, no quería que estuvieran solos"

"ya veo, hmm"

"yo... había invitado a Alex desde un comienzo, pero con lo de su... esposa enferma, solo pudo venir un par de horas, tuvo que irse bien temprano esta madrugada, y por eso me levante tan temprano, quería llamarlo desde el acopio de la esquina para ver como esta y..."

"b-buenos días!" interrumpió timidamente un perfectamente vestido y bien arreglado Mario

"u-hu-huy!!! y donde es la boda galán?" pregunto Ivonne en tono eufemístico, mientras sostenía la taza de café con ambas manos a la vez que jugaba con sus labios.

un "quieres... tomar algo" fue necesario por parte de Clara para que ambos jóvenes dejaran de mirarse casi que perdidos y en un silencio que se estaba volviendo algo incomodo.

"no, gracias señora, ya son las ocho pasadas y estoy algo retrasado, hoy tengo..."

"que!?!?" grito Ivonne "no puede ser, debí llamar a Alex hace ya media hora, abue... lo siento tengo que correr, pero continuaremos mas tarde y... tu Don Juan... recuerda que prometiste acompañarnos a Claudia y a mi al centro durante toda la tarde, así que mas vale que no te demores, entendido? bye"

"si... volveré pronto..." termino casi que susurrando un pálido y estático Mario después de ver pasar corriendo por un lado suyo a quien fuera su mejor amiga durante tanto tiempo, cuando ella cerro la puerta que conduce hacia la calle, solo se limito a suspirar mientras aun permanecia inmóvil observando aquella puerta y convenientemente dándole la espalda a Clara, de esa forma no podría verlo llorar, aunque ella ya sabia que era lo que él estaba haciendo

"no vas a regresar, correcto?"

"yo... muchas gracias gracias señora Armines, por todo, digale adiós de mi parte a Claudia, y por favor a Ivonne, digale que..."

"dicelo tu cuando regreses, ella te estará esperando"

"hmm" - se le escucho salir de la boca de Mario pero en tono irónico - "ambos sabemos que no es así, y por mi parte no será posible señora, ya no más, no esta vez...

adiós..."

the promotion

"thats ok Judy, maybe the next year for sure..."

"hey, the next year, this ones does not counts, k?..."

"yes Judy, the incoming one..."

"better luck next year Judy..."

"come on! Judy..."

"almost Jud, almost..."

"cheers my friend, this was not your year..."

"I know exactly how are you feeling, let me invite you to..."

"next year Judy, for sure..."

"next year... next year... next year... next year..."

muttered over and over again the disappointed figure of Judy Parlmine while her job partners passing by at her side (almost like a required but humillating support row) while puting their hands on her shoulder and trying to conffort her, some of them even hug her from several sides and some others try to look directly to her face while smiling to make her feel better, tough her eyes were lost looking only just the silhouette in the main part of the auditorium of the person she most hate in all the world, Leon Ferreira.
"why?..." - she asked to herself
"why him and not me? I have more years here than anyone... I have helped and even cared about for every single person in this room, from that whore of Cecil 'till this stupid bastard of... Leon, everyone here own me something... every single one of them... and thats how they paid me?"
Her face start to fill with repudiation and anger while squeezing the theet.
"I never need that promotion, what's wrong with this persons that call themselves my friends?, they never..."
"hey Jud!, emmm..." - interrumped a smiling and satisfied Leon while aproaching towards her

"no hard feelings, uh?" - softly giving her a friendly blow on her right arm.
The face of Leon Ferreira never look so stupid and pathetic as is looking now, though Judy to herself.
"thats ok, silly boy"
replied Judy with a shining and radiant smile as well, but while turning her back to return to her office and to her routinary job, she felt a hand over her shoulder while hearing a "you must understand, I didn't planned all this, you know, but... oh well... we're still friends, right Jud? we..."
the new promoted manager of the A.R.D. Central Coustumer Care - Section 12, coudn't finish that last question due to the pencil that was violently "inserted" from the frontal side of his neck, completly rending his throat, crossing his chin and slightly peeping in his right cheek. While looking how the dead body fell over her and with the amazed, silent and scared looking of all her mates, Judy Parlmine tried to slowly get away from the recient created blood pool in front of her, but only because she didn't want her new shoes got dirty or worse, stained; walking backwards she muttered:
"you never understood, right? you didn't... my friend"

have you checked the closet lately?

previous/10. The Pengui-Yeti                                                                                                                                         next/12. Wendigos 

11. THE WERE-COW

The Were-cow, also called The Cow in the closet is a modern cryptid rumoured to inhabit urban towns in America. Even though some documented sightings date back to the 1960s, this being is primarily a phenomenon of the beginning of 1900s, however the main mystery should be why its fame has largely decreased in the American mysterious creatures annals?, the Internet itself has not many information about it, most of the witness and journalist involved in the case simple have disappeared. The most detailed (and first sighted reported) started in earnest in 1968 with reports coming out of several towns more precisely from the state of Arkansas, of a strange creature (or creatures) that was lurking in some teenagers closets at houses, rooms, theatres and yes, colleges as well. The loss of mental sanity of every witness, mysterious kidnappings and a lactose intolerance epidemic are enough evidence that something was going on. As always the goverment sources denny it everything.

Due was only seen by a few people and always in a short period of time, and though the lack of solid records it is considered one of the most intriguing creatures of modern times; the first sighting was in april 1968 made by 18 -year-old Clense Bimett as he and two friends were working and checking some closets as their repair job in a new but abandoned building north near the city of Des Arc at around 10:30 at night, two of the three boys were shirtless, bald and had pale white skin and hair when discovered at the next day. FBI agents documented and closed the case after a quick show up though Clense Bimett body was never found.

In Augusta city, in January 1973, a man named Nailuj Reklats claimed this sighting (while peeking some college girls through a window) of a middle creature(s) that suddenly appeared from inside one of the closets of that room: "I just… was walking out my journey home and… then I notice the lights on, like a party, you know, some of this crazy music that the teen hear these days and even laughs from inside the room but then the silence and this… cow like creature showed up… and the screams… there might be a dozen of helpless young and not well covered ladies… God… the screams… I couldn't do anything for hers so I descended from the tree I was and I ran home to call to the police station, but when we got to the place, they were all gone… and I mean, all, just some underwear here and there..." Official reports only limited to say that a group of rebel and perhaps drugged girls, destroyed their own room in crazy party before they leaving to New Mexico looking for a new life, abandoning their families, friends and studies. Despite the reputation of the perturbed and chronic alcoholic man, his story was more credible than the final conclusions of the federal agents that came to the city hours later to investigate and close the case.

Another sighting was reported exactly the next day by 17-year-old, Abe Cugned, the son of a notorious officer cop, who said a cow like creature kidnapped his girlfriend while she was hiding in his room's closet while playing some teen's game. Oddly this time was in the Conway town at Foulker, miles away from Augusta but according to the reports almost at the same hour at the night.

Rumors of another sightings persisted into the 1970s, '80s, and toward the end of the '90s. The creature was blamed for teenager abductions in Heber Springs, Clinton, Russellville, Morrilton and Lonoke. In some cases, "it" is said to have frightened reluctant adolescents almost to critic levels with only its horrorous howl. A decade later in May and June of 2000, a rash of new incidents took place in the surroundings of the Searcy county, according to certain rumours there. In fact, some of the most incredible claims and sightings yet came out near of these city: that at least one of the creatures was caught alive by local authorities, however they must handed over to official agencies of the US government and in the actually there are not records, neither graphic or wroted, just the local comments and narrations in little journals. Comparing historic reports, the description of the Were-cow was always almost consistent. This is the creature the few surviving victims and witness alleged saw after the encounter:
· Taller than an average man (seven to eight feet).
· A head and a face like a cow.
· Usually hops about like a kangaroo, but can walk and crawl like a normal person.
· Large, red, glowing and hypnotic eyes.
· Black and White furred skin and hairy arms.
· Long snake-like tongue.
· A strong, milk odor.
· Sharp fangs.
· Cow's hooves.
· Walks on its back legs and holds up two long front legs with Paws on them.
· Three tails? (cow tails).
· Some believe it may even have bat wings about two feet long (not a very consistent description in all the declarations)
· Caused radio and television interferente.
· Had some mind control powers.
· A piercing, eerie but veal howl.
· Aways apears at full moon nights.

What is it? Theories abound, including: an unknown but natural species of new adolescent hunter; misidentified late night worker teen-ager mystic predators; the result of goverment genetic experimentation; an alien; a stalker and masked men; a cursed group of cow skin-walkers. Most serious researchers consider Were-cow merely folklore, perpetuated by over-enthusiastic locals immersed in superstition or a penchant for telling tall, exaggerated tales. But the missing of mostly all the witness and victims, the nonexplained insanity after its pass and the always present silence of the goverment authorities seems to probe the contrary.

Yet you can be sure that we haven't seen or heard the last of this "Cows in the closet", however sad news for the people in Arkansas and specially in Searcy city.

"... Although the traditions, legends and superstitions of North America were then not properly formed, we can be certain that among the earliest notions to strike a common chord was a belief in, and a fear of, the veal-demon. The cow was common and pretty well evenly distributed throughout the North American continent, although it was known only in its natural shape and condition, for the inhabitants were not yet in the habit of supposing that, as in the folklore of some native american tribes, some of this creatures were created when some berserkers wore the skins of cows to take on animal-like qualities but the fiercest were-cows were men, transformed by magic into that shape for the purpose of devouring their fellows, or at least, their flocks and herds. Another legends about their origins proposed that a man could be transformed into the animal he feared most, in this case the cow*; and then the white man, hearing about the strange stories of cow-men among the Indians and relating it to those he had heard even from European superstition, slowly formulated his own were-cow "tradition".—from "The Were-Cow Delusion", Nagiel Woodman**, Searcy Press, 1987

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* See "boanthropy"
** Reporter Nagiel Woodman is missing till the date.

a soul never forgotten

No one knew how many hours Marie had sat on the same cold bench in front of the entrance of the cemetery. She huddled there crying while holding the same daisy button that her husband had given her, and that she had been wearing that night of the car accident. Now that little flower was almost unrecognisable, withered, just like her now; the time had continued going on unheeding and unheeded, just like the persons that passed in front of her. They were just walking shadows living inside their own world of problems and they had no room and time for her.

The hopeless situation of the poor and lonely Marie: just ignored by all persons around her. Though she pretended this situation wasn't affecting her (like she always did on her job, like she always treated all) the truth was different. It was the opposite; every face that passed near her but didn't notice her was a growing and indescribable pain, like a divine punishment. She realized that she must stop cutting her own hands so badly in that impulsive way she did. How she wished to be able to turn the time back; that way her husband would have never had to drive that rainy night carrying with her. The rends and scars on both hands now covered her skin in easy view of everyone (there were even some fresh blood stains). Despite this, no one, absolutely no one, paused to show care or ask her the reason of her pitiful condition.

She had been crying for so many hours that she had apparently forgotten the reason she stayed there, sitting alone in front of a cemetary. She continued on, feeling sorry for a loss of which she was not very sure how it happened and holding what might have been the last present from her beloved husband: a simple flower. That simple little thing was actually the kind of present that he would never care to give to her. He gave her jeweled rings more often than a living flower. How could she not have seen the bad omen that that unusual present really meant? After all those years of marriage, it was a pleasant surprise to receive her favourite flower. Her husband always knew what she liked despite his cool mien and apparent carelessness about presents. In his soul he was totally different, and she always accepted him like that.

But why she was delaying the logical next step for God knows how many times? She was there at the entrance of the cemetary, but just afraid to enter and "pay a visit to your loved ones" (as one of the plaques at the walls of cemetery reads). Oddly, at that moment, Marie recalled that she had never been the kind of person that took the initiative. It was always her husband who did that in almost every aspect of her life since she could remember, (with the obvious exception of her failed suicide attempt).
"What do I have to do now?"
she asked herself for several minutes (maybe hours)... lost again till she realized the useless of that situation and realized that it was the time to take the direction of her life, to correct some mistakes, and to "stop crying for everything" as her husband always used to say.
After she stood up and cleaned her eyes, she dropped the dead flower that she had held like a precious treasure and decided to head into the cemetery, while her legs trembled like a little kid's. It had been a long time since her last visit to this place, when her sister died only a teenager. Marie already had forgotten her sister's face, but that did not trouble her now. Right now she was thinking that she must bring some flowers with her though her husband never liked them. But these thoughts just disappeared soon after when she looked around and realized how desolate that place was. She was all alone. Where did go all the people that she had seen enter there before her?

For a few minutes she walked alone across the entire place until she reached the reserved lot that she and her husband had purchased years ago, and there it was as she imagined it; the first of the two gravestones that in the future would be their final resting places, but an unexpected sight caught her attention, a daisy bouquet, almost fresh and beautifully arranged. But why was that there? Everyone knew her late husband had liked neither flowers nor gifts from anyone besides her, and he never would approve of such an extravagant thing on his tomb. Perhaps it was someone's mistake? But while that thought and another dozen possible explanations crossed her mind, she crouched to pick up the flowers. She froze, realized the unthinkable, and as she crumbled to the ground (strangely holding again in her hands the withered flower she dropped before,) she couldn't help but start crying again, while reading over and over the inscription on the white tombstone:
"That your soul find peace, my beloved Marie."
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Edited by Rose Lachenhild

Separation - Part 1

"What are you looking at?"

Dinemm asked the figure semi-hidden in the curtains.It took five seconds for Jonas to recover from the shock of hearing his father just a few steps behind him. He hadn't heard the shorter man approach over the soft carpets, lost as he was in his own thoughts.
"No.. nothing father... Sir, I..."
He tried to form an answer through the whirl of his scattered thoughts with his eyes turned the floor; away from the sight in the courtyard below the window.
"Are you contemplating the results of what you were waiting for for so long?"
interupted Dinemm. His rage-filled eyes sought for his elusive son's eyes.
"Are you not going to ask me for forgiveness? You have destroyed my family! You were entrusted with the care of all of us after... you... you only had to protect my two children!, only that! I never asked you for more and what have I found here today!?! My son is dead!"
The eldest son kept his face turned down, his throat tight with anger. Dinemm continued:
"My sweet Rucca... you destroyed her by killing her own brother, what a disaster you have brought on all us! Now I will have to send her away... forever, safe from you and your... jealousy... I hope you are happy now."
Jona's head snapped up.
"Happy!?!"
He refuted his father for the first time in his life.
"Why should I be happy?!? You have only cared for only one person as long as I can remember, yourself! You think that you understand Rucca now, but that is not true, we... my brothers were something less than trophies for you, while I... Did you think Rucca, and... Lucca, as your only children? Am I no one for you, am I not your son?, Or am I just a... what? A full time body guard?"Dinemm turned his back to his son. He teeth ground together as he fought for control of his temper. Jonas watched his father's taut shoulders.
"The truth hurts" - he thought to himself - "but you don't really care do you? Well, you still don't what would really hurt you. Your ignorance, my pain and my triumph."
"That has nothing to do with it now. The inspector Chronee will come soon, so, I hope for Rucca's sake and for your own's sake that you remember what you must say to him. It must be convincent to tell that all was an..."
"An accident! I know, you don't have to remind me of what to say. I was there, you were not."
interupted Jonas
"... I'll be at the hall then"
muttered Dinemm, while some words seemed to be restrained in his mouth. After a couple of uncomfortable seconds he left the room, closing the heavy doors. Jonas found himself alone in the room thinking about all the events that took place that same morning; the old mansion of his father felt more stifling than ever. He gazed at his hands, and at the same time looked through the window at the fragile and cold figure of his sister Rucca, now without the eternal company of her twin brother, while she climbed into the car that would take her to an uncertain future in another country. He realized that they hadn't said a proper goodbye to each other, however a little outline of smile seems to show in her face.
"Odd, now that you are alone... you look so... happy, so free. Now I understand why you did that. Farewell little sister,"
He recalled his father's words,
"now I know what I was looking at through the window. It was not my reflection after all...and not my failure"An old, serene female voice called his name through the door, interrupting his thoughts and telling him that his father and the inspector Chronee required his immediate presence in the main hall. Jonas calmly put on his usual jacket and took a last look around the room. His eyes were drawn to the family portrait over the main desk, and he noted how similar his brother Lucca was to their father; with the same cold, rejecting look in their eyes
"What a coward am I" - whispered Jonas,
"I hated you so much brother, almost as much as Rucca did, though... she never told you that. She did what I couldn't, with her own hands, now its my turn to prove my worth here, I guess... that our father won't be disappointed after all in I am going to say. He is hoping I will burn for this. Well, I can grant his wish, but not for him. This will be my one last act of protection for you, Rucca. None of this was your fault anyway. Goodbye"
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Edited by Rose Lachenhild

sixty seconds

Well, it is odd that the most noticeable thing right now would be this guy. It looks like half of his body is paralyzed, yet he is walking straight along on the other side of the street, making a slow journey from south to north. (Ehh, I guess it would take for him a full year of walking to reach his goal, if he actually has one.) He is holding this plastic case apparently filled with cheap chocolates with his "good" hand, and screaming something...i can't tell...it sounds like he is saying the stuff in the case is worth 50 or 500. Since he staggers along so slowly, dragging his left foot, some persons pass him as if he was standing still. Two couples that are walking so fast push him and don't even appologize. Everybody seems to be ignoring him as if they hope that will make him not exist. A third couple actually avoids him. Yeah, he looks a little disgusting from here, and maybe... on second thought, those chocolates are not so healthy after all, who knows... (But now I wonder where all these couples are coming from this afternoon.) The sixth couple is passing him now, though they walk so slowly that actually is a little hypnotic, walking holding each other hands by only two or three fingers. That looks nice, I guess, my... how much I envy them though they look stupid. A cute smile from a baby that is being carried on her mother's shoulder suddenly passes a scarce foot from me. I am startled and remember what I was planning to do in first place. I just wanted to, you know, distract the mind by contemplating some more curved and nice silhouettes, but as always I just get ignored by the interesting ones and in exchange some naughty looks from... my... So, returning to the "chocolates" guy, I notice that he has already vanished. That was way too fast (or did I lose my notion of time?) In his place is this woman that seems to have already finished her labor's day and is just waiting for a cab. (how lucky) And I'm saying the for the fact that seems that she got a free ride in this... luxury car (which i don't recognize the model) No, wait, the guy was just lost. So I watch how the girl does this "sigh" expression while returning to the sidewalk with all her bags. I can hear my office phone ringing, stupid phone. I'm almost 100% sure it will be another stupid missed call, but anyway, yeah... yep, time to get back to work, back to reality.

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Edited By Rose Lachenhild