The texts for the call for entries for the XVI edition of the Radio Lanzarote 2026 Micro-story contest continue to arrive at the editorial office 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).
One more year, the Tourist Centers collaborate with the contest, which opens the submission period this Wednesday, July 1, 2026 until August 31, both inclusive.
On this occasion, participants must submit a micro-story that must not exceed 100 words, not including the phrase we will provide below. All stories will have the same title "...And in the afternoon it rained." Based on this title, participants must imagine what happens next.
Each author may send a maximum of five stories, which they may sign with a pseudonym, although they must always provide a name and contact phone number. Likewise, the stories should be sent to the address: concursorelatos@lanzarotemedia.net.
As the stories are received, they will be published in La Voz de Lanzarote. 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 will choose three winning stories and seven finalists. The verdict of the contest will be made public in the second half of September.
This year, the original numbering of the texts will be maintained, also taking into account those that have been disqualified. To date, the following texts have been received:
97) ... And in the afternoon it rained.
Isaías took the guitar, missing a string, down from the loft. A vital urgency made him clench his teeth; he would play again. He would call Moises, the pianist who also understands guitars, and he would take a look. At the moment, he doesn't have transportation to visit the maestro; leaden clouds are bringing the night forward. The contained storm rages mercilessly, forming rivers in what was once overheated asphalt:
-Wait for it to stop raining? Impossible, I have to play, my life depends on it. Understand then...!
98)... And in the afternoon it rained.
I dreamed of you again. It was a dry, hot morning, I needed to clear my head, I went out for a coffee. Then I saw you and found myself, once again, trapped in my dream. Caught in an eternal night, I blamed the sun.
The day continued, the temperature rose. I had lunch alone, I wanted to cry but the heat evaporated my tears. With no desire to do more, I lay down and, melted on my bed, I fantasized that the sky filled with clouds. Its rain extinguished the fire in the street and its drops on my skin erased your memory.
99) ... And in the afternoon it rained.
As the companions hastily left the table and ran to take shelter in the nearby arcades, Félix grabbed the last churro from the plate, pinching it with two fingers. He hadn't survived "The Cyclone's Tail" for a simple downpour to ruin his pleasure of scraping the last drop of chocolate from the cup. He was in no hurry.
There was still a good while before "the Magical Night." Of course, he was burning with desire to tell the children, in "A Net Painted with Words" the adventure in which he had found "The Treasure of Lubary" astride a "Silver Dolphin".
100)... And in the afternoon it rained.
"The tail of the cyclone" soaked the enigmas of an oceanic island and during the last breath of "Prince Tiqqlit," in "the magical night," the Canarian legends of "the inhabited house" by fairies, Shitela the minotaur and "the silver dolphin," came to life to guard "the treasure of Lubary."
Eleven messages in a bottle began the ritual of posthumous passage, while an anthology of mothers from Chimanfaya advanced like a line of grieving ants, in the marina of Arrecife.
"The guincho that returned to port" and "a net painted with words," alerted "the old woman who sometimes drank" - double or nothing -.
101)... And in the afternoon it rained.
At noon he received a package accompanied by an image and a note:
- If you want your son to stay alive, take the bag at 6:00 PM to the procession of La Virgen Rota and leave the offering at her feet, as she passes the intersection of La Puerta de los Lamentos. Do not open it, do not call the police, nor think this is a game, it will self-destruct by geolocation. And in the afternoon it rained…
102)... And in the afternoon it rained.
Just like every afternoon for weeks. And he snuggled up again in that ruined and empty house that he was trying to turn into his home. His home, he thought, as two tears rolled down his cheeks like raindrops on the broken windowpane; his home, there his mother and his wife would be grinding grain, while the children played, sheltered in the shade of the hut, his home where his children were born and his father died, his home that saw him born from which he left one dark night with a broken heart.
103) ... And it rained in the afternoon.
Guanarteme raised his eyes and invoked the God Acorán. Meanwhile, in silence, he was pondering unintelligible words; if the omen came true, his people would no longer depend on him. On the contrary, he himself would become part, as just another subject, of outsiders. Already between Teguise and Betancuria they were dividing up lineages and harvests. When would it be our turn? Embraced by the cloudy rock, in full prayer, he did not notice that slowly, like caresses, virtuous tears were forming water in the sky.
104) ... And it rained in the afternoon.
He had everything prepared. A special date in a magical setting, without forgetting any detail: the approved glasses, the printed PDF with suggestions from NASA, and a small bottle of champagne and two glasses.
The occasion demanded it. The event would take decades to repeat, and I wanted to live it by his side.
Those dark clouds after a summer of drought ruined my plans and what came next: his retinal injury, my pneumonia, the disturbances in the electronic devices that set off all the alarms...
And the preventive bombings we had to activate when we thought they were attacking us.
105) ... And it rained in the afternoon.
Sofía wandered through the alleys of Teguise after yet another argument at home. The hustle and bustle of the market allowed her to go unnoticed and isolate herself, even while surrounded by people.
Absorbed in her thoughts, she heard a voice calling her: "Sofía!".
She slowly raised her head. She couldn't believe her first love was in front of her, twenty years later. He continued, excited:
"Long time no see! Can I buy you a coffee?”
Astonished, she simply nodded. She had dreamed of that reunion countless times.
Hours later, that same afternoon, it started to rain, but they were so happy to be walking hand in hand again that they didn't care.
106) ... And it rained in the afternoon.
On the rear windows of the old, gray, worn-out van. Until well into the early morning, it rained again, on that skin that almost evaporated with friction. It rained again and the drops rolled, shiny, on the tanned skin, taut like a drum; like a tremor; like a star; shimmering.
107)... And it rained in the afternoon.
Rain had been expected for days, and the neighbors had already gathered as they had so many other times, to clean ravines and cisterns. With the humble hope of hoarding some of that precious liquid element that is so scarce in these lands.
Already for days the grandmother's knee had been announcing it and my mother had, once again, piled up and prepared several of the largest jars we had at home for these cases.
The first drops began to patter on the corrugated iron roof of the patio, with that cheerful little tune that announces LIFE.
108) …And it rained in the afternoon
I remember the smell of wet earth, recently turned... As my bones descended into the earth, into the cozy humidity of a happy eternity, my soul slipped through a crack in the old coffin and managed to emerge for an instant into the living air. From my new vantage point, I watched my family and friends with satisfaction. They were all crying inconsolably, especially my wife and children... (The poor things)... They had just found out they had been disinherited.
109) …And it rained in the afternoon.
The sound of raindrops hitting my window reminded me that I had to go to that long-awaited appointment. I grabbed my raincoat and my rubber boots and went to meet it like a torrent of freshness that invited me to run. Everything seemed more beautiful; the trees looked even greener than before and my heart beat in time with the constant and repetitive downpour descending from the sky.
There she was, soaked to the bone and smiling. We kissed with the force with which the rain awakens the skin, because being with him is my safe place.
110)....And it rained in the afternoon.
And how it rained! That insolent rain embraced the earth without asking permission, and in a daring way it took complete possession of me. I shouted at the sky:
—Couldn't you rain at night?
—You've already ruined my hairstyle and my shoes.
—Take your storm somewhere else.
But the sky's audacious weeping understood no manners, so I let that majestic rain calm my soul.
111)....And it rained in the afternoon.
But I stayed there, still, listening to the relaxing sound of the rain. They were not simple drops of water breaking as they hit the roofs; it was everything in that moment: the calm for my mind, the smell of wet earth, the peace of my home, the memories of a life. That feeling of absolute well-being, of joy and security.
The pleasure of enjoying all those feelings at once moves me deeply. That pleasant breeze that the rain brings makes me feel happy, it makes everything seem calm and cozy.
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