A total of 17 new stories have been added this week to the Radio Lanzarote Micro-Story Contest, which in its eighth edition pays tribute to the bicentenary of the novel 'Frankenstein or the modern prometheus' by the British writer Mary Shelley. It should be remembered that the deadline to participate in the contest will end on August 31.
The proposal on this occasion is to imagine the continuity of the story, after the monster created by Dr. Frankestein "jumped out of the cabin window onto the raft that floated next to the ship. Soon the waves took him away, and he was lost in the distance and in the darkness."
As in previous editions, the maximum length of the stories will have to be 100 words, including the title if it has one, and the radio must be part of the story. Each author may send a maximum of five stories, which may be signed with a pseudonym, although a name and contact telephone number must always be indicated. All those who wish to participate can send their stories to the email [email protected].
The stories will be published in order of receipt in La Voz de Lanzarote and will be read in the 'Reading on the Radio' space of Radio Lanzarote-Onda Cero. The decision of the contest, which will be made public in the second half of September, will be made by a jury made up of journalists from Radio Lanzarote-Onda Cero and La Voz de Lanzarote, who will choose three winning stories and seven finalists.
The winner of the first prize will receive a two-night stay for two people on a half-board basis at the Vik San Antonio hotel, while the story that wins the second prize will obtain a Billow table from Tiendas AHL Informática, with a 10.1" screen, 64 b, 1GBDD3, 16 G of memory, Android 7.0 and dual wifi 2.40. The third prize will be a family pass (up to four people) with food included to Rancho Texas Lanzarote Park.
The return
He was adrift for several days. The harshness of the cold and saltpeter hardened the skin of his face and hands. Throughout the journey he remained motionless and with his eyes closed, lying face up on the raft. By the time the boat touched solid ground he had already decided that he would die right there and would never have bothered to stand up if it had not been for that radio, which despite the interference and the distance managed to broadcast the news: Mr. Walton had been murdered. Then he opened his eyes abruptly. "I have to go back," he thought.
Untitled
Sister night, cover me...I wander through this sea, begging you, fleeing.
Imagining a better life, a better world...where they look at you beyond your face, deep inside. Where the echoes of the radio cannot reach, there I will arrive.
Sister night, protect me... right now, my heaven and my hell merge.
Right now my body sinks, my mind flies over all this and asks me not to stop. Right now it's too late, the stars marked the moment, the moon orders me to rise and float.
It's time for stars, it's time for eras.
In the triangle
He sailed countless miles until the flimsy boat ran aground in a fog more alive than him. There he plunged his hand into the green and hypnotic waters, seeing himself dragged to the bottom by hitmen and marine vines. Since then, calm, he lies in the depths welcomed by his new family. That with which, under the light of curious abyssal fish, he spends the dead hours telling stories. Everyone, except the black sheep Walter, has accepted his destiny. He insists on asking for help through the radio of his bomber without understanding that he will never escape from this watery prison.
Final show
After a long journey he was welcomed by a new home, frozen and inhospitable. There he lived quietly for many years until a damn tremor threw him into the sea riding an iceberg adrift. One night, a chilling creak broke the stillness that surrounded him. He got up just to see how his last chance was moving away at full speed. Calm, while the telegraph operator of that immense dying ship was still sending banal and private messages by radio, he lay down to wait for the end enjoying those beautiful flares that crossed the sky and tore the darkness that had always accompanied him.
Finally alone
Rescued by a whaler, the doors of countless ships opened, without questions, to his titanic constitution. The vast world allowed him to change his mind when the passage of time betrayed his slowed metabolism. With the arrival of the radio, he became an asset of incalculable value when he discovered that the electricity that bubbled in him increased the power of these devices. And so it was until the electronics arrived with weak circuits that melted with his mere presence. He was, again, a monster. But he didn't care. He bought a remote island and disappeared.
Untitled
The fire began to invade the raft eager for power. On his lips a smile masked an immense terror for the imminent suffering. Some heartbreaking screams broke the night and suddenly silence arrived illuminated by the flames.
An indescribable pain invaded Frankenstein. He had reached hell and would remain there eternally. -he thought trying to close his fists.
-Quiet! It is a miracle that he is still alive, his body is completely burned, but he will live.
-Surprised, he opened his eyes seeing himself reflected in the eyes of that nurse smiling at him.
Years later he listened to the radio while remembering that moment.
A smile...at him! A miracle!
"Beautiful marine coffin?"
And suddenly he found himself immense in the majesty of the moment. His monstrous eyes vibrated, at the surprising beautiful reflection of his face, it was a surge of torment touching the water with his hands. The Stars sounded like heaven, while he hummed on his lips, that radio ballad, which reminded him of his master. Finally he was no longer afraid, his remorse drowned, and he said goodbye to life saying: "I AM A VILLAIN BECAUSE I AM NOT HAPPY, NOR DID I EVER FEEL LOVED".
One more step
«The raft ended up on the shore pushed by the wind. The music called him. Guided by the violins, he arrived at the house and looked through the window. A woman was sewing near a device that filled the room with the sweetest melody, through electromagnetic waves?»
?Mary, Mary??her husband Percy interrupted her?leave it or you'll end up crazy. The story already had its ending.
Reluctantly, Mary crumpled the sheet and threw it in the trash.
?Electromagnetic waves. You come up with every story!?he said as he wrapped his arm around her waist.
Project Prometheus
When we extracted him from the ice his cellular structure was seriously damaged. But? he was still alive! The process of molecular regeneration was complicated and some results have not been optimal: the anomalous orange coloration of his skin, the sparse golden hair that populated his skull, the over-gesticulation that dominates his face? But the most worrying thing was his brain. How would two hundred years of hibernation have affected him? And yet? I have to listen to the news over and over again on the radio and television to believe it, to certify our success. Who could imagine that we would manage to place him in the White House?
Historical diary
[?]Radio Lanzarote-Onda Cero can advance that in these documents dated in 1824, it is revealed that villagers in the area sighted a being they describe as a demon of gigantic stature, grayish skin and deformed but humanoid body; which they saw entering underground caves of Mount Faya, building the pyre where it would burn at will. This fact derived, according to the inhabitants, in an electrical storm, underground tremors and the eruption of a volcano. That from its crater vomited terrible flames, illuminating the entire Island of Lanzarote[?]
Untitled
The raft floated at the mercy of the current, still among ice floes, the silence was broken only by the static of an old radio and the monster's muffled cry for the loss of its creator, he thought that he only had to let himself die, but he was interrupted by a sea lion that fell on the boat, without wasting time the animal attacked and the monster stopped its open jaws a few centimeters from its face, he felt sorry and, instead of destroying its jaw, he preferred to return it to the sea with a kick; he understood that, even if he was an abomination, he had the right to life.
Mental construction
"He jumped out of the cabin window onto the raft that floated next to the ship. Soon the waves took him away, and he was lost in the distance and in the darkness."
He finished reading these words and looked up at his old radio turned on.
Imagining, he formed an electrical circuit, without antennas, but with screws and some steel scar revealing the macabre identity of his parked reading.
Electromagnet concluding in a speaker; deformed growls and strange sounds.
He thought: What if in that circuit together with the control, the condensation capacity varies? Will it be heard on different stations? Galvanism taken to the old inert device? His monstrous construction levitated in the room like a ghostly wake.
For a few moments he felt panic and turned off the imagination, but not the radio.
Vortex of time
The boat began to spin and a feeling of emptiness made him lose consciousness. Suddenly, he opened his eyes startled and got up from the cot. He looked around and stopped his gaze on a strange rectangular object, he approached and turned a silver button:
"Today, August 3, 2018, we have started with Glenn Miller..."
Immediately a music began to come out of that object. Frankenstein smiled. That sound was pleasant, suddenly something made him turn on his heels, a man in a white uniform had just entered and was approaching.
"Mr. Frankenstein we were waiting for you?
Radio or the modern monster
Waiting for death, the monster finds another creation of man on the way, a plate says radio and its creator is Marconi. He examines it, it has a voice but it is deaf and blind and he asks himself: does this creation have a soul?, will it be able to regret what it says?, if it cannot see can it comment on my appearance and what I feel?, did man forget what he has created it for?.
We are the same, so many truths and lies inside, without seeing and deaf we judge the world!, Neither monster, nor men will be more alone! He concluded.
The son of the penguins
October, 1915. Shackleton activated the radio. The last hope to escape the mortal embrace of the Antarctic ice was that monstrous device that Guglielmo Marconi had taken the precaution of installing in the stern of the Endurance. An unexpected frequency interrupted the signal coming from the Falklands. The supernatural voice of a man provided some coordinates: Latitude 89°59?51? S - Longitude 139°16?22? E.
-They correspond practically to the South Pole! ?exclaimed Shackleton.
When, making a superhuman effort, they arrive at the origin of the signal, a gigantic figure comes out to receive them. Embroidered on his coat is a name: Doctor Frankenstein.
A frequency from the depths
The radio of the French submarine warned them of the proximity of the German battleship. Approaching a strange reef off the English coast, Captain Aronnax decides to disembark and explore it. On the black rocks they discover the ancient remains of a raft and a semi-human being with his body covered in scars.
Aronnax and his men never returned. Instead, something returned to the Surcouf NN3 submarine. Before sinking into the depths of the North Sea, the radio of the old Cumbria lighthouse picks up a strange signal that repeats three German syllables: Frank-ens-tein.
Untitled
The raft gave way to the onslaught. The poor creature sank into the sea, while pressing against his chest the device that tuned Radio Lanzarote. The twinkling of the stars disappeared before his eyes and the darkness of the seabed enveloped him. He felt the sand and the pleasure of weightlessness in the shady ocean. The darkness did not frighten him, because he came from it. What scared him was oblivion.
He saw the curious mermaids swimming near him. He saw Poseidon and the kraken sleeping. He had lost faith in man, but had gained the immortality of fantastic beings.
