The Radio Lanzarote-Onda Cero Micro-story Contest, dedicated in its tenth edition to the Tourist Centers, has already received its first stories.
The deadline to participate in the contest will remain open until August 31. Until then, those interested can send their stories to the email concursorelatos@lanzarotemedia.net, with a maximum length of 100 words, including the title if it has one.
On this occasion, it is proposed to write a story that takes place inside one of the Tourist Centers of Lanzarote, whether it is the Montañas del Fuego, Jameos del Agua, the Cueva de los Verdes, the Monumento al Campesino, the Jardín de Cactus, the Mirador del Río or the MIAC-Castillo de San José.
Each author may send a maximum of five stories, which may be signed with a pseudonym, although they must always indicate a name and a contact telephone number. The stories will be published in order of receipt in La Voz de Lanzarote and will be read in the space 'Reading on the Radio' 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 formed by journalists from Radio Lanzarote-Onda Cero and La Voz de Lanzarote. The winner will receive a prize of a weekend for two people at the Hotel Boutique Isla y el Mar in Puerto del Carmen, while the second prize will consist of a dinner for two people at the Castillo de San José and the third prize winner will receive a meal for two people at the Monumento al Campesino.
In addition, on this occasion there will also be a prize for the fourth classified, who will be able to enjoy a Premium experience in the Tourist Centers.
From the viewpoint
I have climbed to the viewpoint, I know where she went, the direction is good.
The views are wide because there is no haze, it has been a while since I came. Famara, the sand, La Graciosa, Alegranza, the roques. Beyond the sea, I am looking in the right direction, but I do not see you, so far away.
They told me "nothing lasts forever", who invented that shit? I bleed from the wound you made me when you left; this will also end, but when.
Maybe you can see me, now I am at the top, but you are far away, more and more. I wish I could see you, I will not see you again.
Diablo Timanfaya
He whispered from the wind, a fog very early in the morning covers them, full of lava but asleep in the entrails of the volcanoes.
-One ticket, please.
The man smiles at me.
The fog disappears and a bright sun observes them.
I go up silently, but wanting to reach every corner of that beautiful landscape, between the murmur of so many people a heat runs through my body; I stop and observe a silhouette, my mind comes together; I did not remember that devil so beautiful.
From now on my soul and my heart belongs to him.
His name, Timanfaya.
Mine, Lanzarote.
Untitled
When he got up, there was no one next to him. All those who accompanied him on the excursion had disappeared and even the sky seemed different.
- Who are you? How did you get here? - said the voice in his head.
- I am Cesar, I do not know. I just bent down to touch a green stone that was shining.
- Ah, the olivine. You have found the door. You are the second Cesar to do it.
- Who are you?
- I am the shepherd of volcanoes, lord of fire. Some call me devil. Go back to the humans now.
- Cesar! Wake up, we are leaving.
He will return
She was a very common girl, she barely attracted attention.
But after days of coming, it was impossible not to remember her face, especially when she stayed for hours looking at every point of the ocean and La Graciosa. I thought the girl had been fascinated by the views.
The intrigue was killing me inside, so I approached her and asked her.
-I am waiting for my father, she told me.
He had been a fugitive for years, hiding from Francoism. Since he had abandoned his job, right where the girl and I were.
Before being the viewpoint, it was a military battery.
-He told me he would return.
In vitro
While the guide answered enthusiastically, Damiana decided to go back a few meters in search of silence. When she finally found the right space, she became aware of the savagery of nature and the solemn stillness. At that moment she made a simile of what she was experiencing with the volcanic concavity. The Cueva de los Verdes represented for her the In Vitro. She reflected on the appropriate environment for the ovum to gracefully welcome the sperm and be able to create life, and if she would have any kind of responsibility for her cell to be happy in that silent and transparent tube.
Cactus
Years later, Manuela returned to that beautiful landscape where her mother's smile shone like never before. She remembered the pleasant walk through the garden and the spectacle offered.
She, with a tender look, whispered something to her that she never forgot: "We must protect our heart, as cacti defend the water reserve with their thorns." A few months later her mother left for the distant country without return.
Soon she understood the meaning of the intelligent words that continue to be her guide.
Now, in front of the mill and raising her eyes to the sky, she relives that delicate moment; Person-Cactus, eternal symbiosis.
Untitled
The drops of dew are drawing shapes on the glass of the castle, Mr. Jameos observes them, while listening to the erupting volcanoes and drops that hang over the cacti in the garden. He does not understand why he is a prisoner of that spell without explanation, a foreigner is in her. The CACT of Lanzarote decide to end the unwanted visitor, once in the capital they see the marquees of the bus stop that move unharmoniously. It would be said that it is an ominous day for all, intimidating for those who have the imperious need to go out with the option of staying in their homes.
Ode
On new moon nights, the Campesino adorned with tanks of old fishing boats looks for his beloved with clothes dulled by dominant Helios.
Effort without truce, arid landscape in volcanic lands.
After time; struggle and effort linked, dawn in overflowing fecundity.
Vines transformed into pleasure that Bacchus offers to walkers. Warm ambrosia of happiness and sweetness in front of La Geria.
Dawn looms. Come back!
There you are, raised among rocks. Standing on your pack animal, watching without rest. Always without lowering your guard.
Custody without rest, praying for your wandering love.
