The XII edition of the Radio Lanzarote-Onda Cero Short Story Contest, which received more than 100 stories, already has winners. Ana Negrín has won the first prize of the contest, which this year was dedicated to radio, with a story titled "Coffee for two?". The winner will enjoy a dinner for two at the Castillo de San José restaurant.
The jury of the contest has decided to award the second prize to the short story "The Date" by Guacimara Rodríguez Martín, who takes one of the unusual experiences for two people from the Art, Culture and Tourism Centers of the Cabildo de Lanzarote. And finally, Reyes María Concepción with "Maybe I dream of dancing" has won the third prize consisting of a meal for two people in the restaurant of the Farmer's Monument.
In addition to the winners, the jury has selected seven finalists, who are "Bars" by Laura Freitas, "And she smiles..." by Mª Teresa Vera, "Dear Sirs and Madams of Radio Lanzarote" by Juan Jesús Beiro, "Voices" by Nerea Rodríguez, "Two Soldiers" by Reyes María Concepción, Untitled by Miguel Gómez and Untitled by Moonlight.
Winning Stories
Coffee for two?
Nobody hurts forever, they say. But I, every morning when I prepare that coffee with two level tablespoons of cinnamon, I remember when I prepared two and with a smile you always said that coffee was the fuel of the mind and then, you turned on the radio shouting with joy that it was a new day, while I, still with the marks of the warm sheets on my face, cursed that contraption and you. How ironic, isn't it? Nobody hurts forever, they said, but damn the cinnamon, damn the coffee, damn the radio and damn you because you will always hurt me.
The Date
I still remember our first date. We were in your brother's car on the way to the cinema. I was nervous. I know you were too because you were tapping the steering wheel with your long, thin fingers while smiling at me. You looked at me and told me that the song playing on the radio was your favorite. I will never forget it because from that day on it also became mine. I still remember our first and last date. We were in your brother's car on the way to the cinema. Our favorite song was playing. The only thing of ours that will accompany me eternally.
Maybe I dream of dancing
Tomás doesn't laugh, doesn't speak, not a single word comes out of his mouth, not a phrase, not a scolding, not an affection. His arms don't warm with a hug, those tender, ephemeral or long ones. His eyes don't look into the distance... or at what he has next to him. His legs don't walk a path already set. Tomás doesn't know what his future will be, he doesn't remember his past. He looks at the white walls as if he enjoys watching a painting. A melody plays on the radio. The thumb of his foot moves. Maybe he dreams of dancing...
Finalists
Bars
Friday at last, the weeks are becoming more and more terribly agonizing, and only 1 four years, six months and nine days have passed, yes, I count them, to be aware of where I am paying for old mistakes. But today is Friday, my favorite day, I wish the hours would pass, and the night would come, I wait for the count, I long for the horrible sound of the lock. Finally in my cell alone, I take out my little radio, a great treasure, my medicine, inheritance from my only friend here, and I stick it to my ear, it starts! Let's see what song with a message my love has dedicated to me today.
And she smiles..
A metallic voice confirms the text clearly and without errors. -Send? -Yes! She thanked for the umpteenth time for having been born in such a technologically advanced era. Her condition has nothing to do, and never better said, with that of yesteryear. She is happy about that. Emotion overwhelms her for almost a week but it will bear fruit. She counts the days and her hours. The sound of the tick tock makes her despair. Calm down, she repeats to herself. Monday. It's twelve o'clock. The dial (90.7) gives the time. She puts her book aside, in braille, when she hears the title of the first story "And she smiles". She smiles.
Dear Sirs and Madams of Radio Lanzarote
I don't know if you remember me. I spent seven years dedicating songs to an impossible love... To a love that seemed impossible... But which, "thanks" to your station, I finally managed to convince to love me. Please, I beg you to come and pick him up. I tried to take him to the "lost and found" area but unfortunately that section is no longer operational. As I promised him happiness, every day he came to claim it, and I have complied as best I could so far... But I can't take it anymore... Please. Help me!!
Voices
Voices that I hear when I wake up. Voices that accompany me throughout the day. Voices that could take me to another world if only I could close my eyes. I have never felt alone because they have always been there. But after all they are just voices. They, behind this filthy radio about to break completely, cannot get me out of this sealed room. Exhausted and afflicted, I desperately await the moment when the device stops working because I know that then I will have no more strength to endure this hell without voices.
Two soldiers
Daring, brave, tenacious,... a soldier. In front of him another man, presumably with the same qualities. Both ready to defend their ideals in that regrettable war. All of them are. One's gaze fixed on the other's, drops of sweat, tight lips,... the weapons in their hands. The echo of the shots merged into one. Blood on the chest. Dust on the faces of the fallen men who looked at each other without hatred. The radio of one of them spread its encouraging message: "The war is over". Slight smile on both before closing their eyes definitively.
Untitled
His gaze reflected bewilderment. The damn disease made him just a stranger in her eyes. Every day it is harder for him to remember and the medicines stopped working a long time ago. He doesn't know where he is or why the person holding him is crying. Nor why some straps hold him to the bed. I kiss him on the forehead and turn on the radio. The theme song of his favorite sports program is playing, the one we listened to together so many nights. His eyes light up as I close the door. -Good night, son. -Rest well, Dad. And my tears turn to happiness.
Untitled
I held that strange box while carefully straightening the antenna. Then I pressed a small metallic coil and, without warning, a woman's voice echoed in the room. She was singing. Her voice, sweet and calm, illuminated everything in its path. She tamed the silence. She banished the shadows. She diluted reality. She whispered, affable. -I haven't heard that song in a while. I turned around, surprised. There was grandfather. -Who is the woman? -I asked. -It's your mother. Emotion overwhelmed me. -And who is she singing to? -To you, little one. And tears ran down my face, because it was the first time I had heard her voice.
