The XVI edition of the Radio Lanzarote 2026 Micro-stories contest already has winners after having received a total of 178 texts sent to the newsrooms of La Voz de Lanzarote and Radio Lanzarote-Onda Cero.
The contest, which began this past July 1st, pays tribute to the Lanzarote painter, essayist, narrator, playwright, and cultural manager Félix Hormiga (1951-2025). Once again, the Tourist Centers collaborate with the contest, which opened its submission period on July 1, 2026, and remained open until August 31, both inclusive.
On this occasion, participants had to submit a micro-story that should not exceed 100 words, not including the phrase we will provide below. All stories have the same title "...And in the afternoon it rained." Based on this title, participants must imagine what happens next.
Each author could send a maximum of five stories, which they could sign with a pseudonym, although they had to always provide a name and a contact phone number. Likewise, the stories were sent to the address: [email protected].
The author's name will not appear in the publication. Only after the verdict will the names of the winning and finalist authors be known.
A jury composed of journalists from Radio Lanzarote and La Voz de Lanzarote has chosen three winning stories and seven finalists.
The winner of the first prize receives a Jameos Noche dinner for two people, while the second prize winner will enjoy a dinner for two people at the Castillo de San José. Finally, the third classified will experience an Unusual Experience for two people.
This year, the original numbering of the texts will be maintained, also taking into account those that have been disqualified. The winning and finalist texts are as follows:
First prize:
153) ...And in the afternoon it rained. (Aridane Martín Rodríguez).
Water ran down walls that had been white, leaving a vertical trail of dust that wouldn't quite go away.
And meanwhile, I peeled and chopped onions, finely. Preparing a sofrito had become a refuge for crying, without having to answer an interrogation about why the white of my eye was no longer white either, but red.
When my sorrow spilled over without me being able to tame it, I would get out the cutting board and knife and improvise the menu. It was one of the few things I could choose.
I hope it rains hard and cleans the earth, first.
And the heartache, afterwards.
Second prize:
138)...And in the afternoon it rained. "Tierra adentro" (Emilio J. Hernández Domínguez)
The man went out into the yard with a shovel.
"What are you doing?" his granddaughter asked.
"I'm looking for the island."
The girl laughed.
"Grandpa, Lanzarote is here!"
He kept digging.
He had been born when the land still seemed endless. He remembered the fields, the
cisterns, his parents' black hands, and a horizon without hotels.
He pulled a wet stone from the ground and handed it to her.
"Keep it."
"What for?"
The old man looked at the sea.
"So that when someone asks where the island we knew was, you can
show it to them."
Third prize:
71) ...And in the afternoon it rained. Juanlira (J. Jesús Beiro Caamaño)
The road was muddy. On the verge... an open ditch, a mass grave... Dead blood everywhere...
The men took their positions.
At the last moment, he had changed sides. He had always been a loser, and for once, he wanted to know what it felt like to win, even if it cost him family and friends.
Those with the rifles on one side. Those with the chains on the other.
When he pulled the trigger... in front of him... familiar eyes remained open, brave... And, deep in his "soul," he felt that he had lost again...
Finalist micro-stories:
129)..And in the afternoon it rained. (Manuela Milani)
After the rain, the streets returned what people had forgotten.
A woman found her mother's voice calling her to dinner in a puddle. An old man
recovered the taste of his first kiss. A man pulled a childhood laugh out of the water.
The whole city searched among the puddles.
A little girl did too.
She put her hands in one, then in another. Nothing.
She looked at the adults hugging songs, scents, Sundays, promises, dreams.
"Mom, why doesn't the rain give me anything back?"
Her mother bent down and stroked her hair.
"Because you haven't learned to forget yet."
1) And in the afternoon it rained (Jerónimo Hernández de Castro)
I couldn't imagine what was going to happen. A little while before, I was in the cloud and I discovered it near me: the most precious drop I had ever seen in my life. Our condensation process had coincided in time, and I did everything possible to get closer to it, but it didn't even notice my presence. Just when I thought I would lose it in the crowd, the electrical device set off the storm, and the music of the thunder accompanied our first dance. Then, we plunged into the abyss in a wet embrace that made us inseparable forever.
9) ...And in the afternoon it rained. (Yeray Ríos Montero)
The wood of the dinghy creaked against the rocks and the impact threw us onto the dark sand of the cove. We crawled through the seaweed, shivering, our eyes blinded by the salt crust and the heavy fear of those who had crossed the channel in the dark. It was then that the sky opened. The downpour began to wash our faces, dissolving the sting of the sea on our cheeks. I slowly opened my eyelids, swallowing the sweet water from the sky, and finally I could see my brother's face again. We were alive.
23) ...And in the afternoon it rained. (Elena Cabello Alberola)
She was never beautiful, they said. Her hands were twisted from work and her skin cracked by the wind. But every afternoon, when she returned, the whole house smelled of bread, figs, and home. The day she died, the island remained still. And in the afternoon it rained. Her grandchildren understood then that some women leave so much life behind them that even the sky comes out to bid them farewell.
49) ...And in the afternoon it rained. Eire Herrera (Idoia Nereida Martínez Herrera)
Three days later, Los Valles looked like another place. The dark earth, so accustomed to the sun, had dawned covered in a tender green, dotted with tiny lilac flowers. Cars slowed down and people stopped to look, as if the island had finally opened a secret room. He parked by the roadside and offered her his hand. "I promised you a meadow in Lanzarote." She laughed and began to walk slowly through the damp grass. There was no ring. Only that grateful land blooming around the two of them. And it was enough.
72) ...And in the afternoon it rained. (Laura Freitas Pérez)
And in the afternoon it rained! Those five terse words, spoken in a hoarse voice and with a lost gaze, were the end of the short story. Then I understood and accepted it. No matter how much I tried to know what the day had been like when my father arrived in Lanzarote, fleeing the hunger and misery of his country, he had erased from his memory any memory prior to setting foot on solid ground, when he threw himself into the water from the dinghy. He could only remember of that day that it dawned cloudy although it was hot and that the trade winds were blowing strongly.
52) ...And in the afternoon it rained. Eire Herrera (Idoia Nereida Martínez Herrera)
At dusk, the gutters continued to carry water to the cistern. Each splash against the bottom sounded like a name. Clara lifted the lid and inhaled the smell of damp lime, cold stone, and old house. Her grandmother used to say that water held what no one dared to say.
She took the letter intended for her sister out of her pocket and read the first line: "Forgive me."
The echo returned it to her, softer.
Then the phone rang.
"I don't know why," her sister said from the other island, "but I felt you were calling me."
Clara looked at the water.
This time she answered.
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