The X edition of the Radio Lanzarote-Onda Cero Short Story Contest, to which nearly 130 stories were submitted, already has winners. Roberto Tejera De León has won the first prize of the contest, which this year was dedicated to the Tourist Centers, with a story with the Cactus Garden as the protagonist. The winner will be able to enjoy a weekend for two people at the Hotel Boutique Isla y el Mar in Puerto del Carmen.
The jury of the contest has decided to award the second prize to the short story 'Timanfaya' by Rosa Elena Betancor Lemes, who has won a dinner for two people at the Castillo de San José. For his part, Tomás Reyes, with the story 'De los Verdes y el Violín, has won the third prize, consisting of a meal for two people at the Farmer's Monument.
In this tenth edition, there is also a prize for the fourth classified, which has been Lola Sanabria, with her short story 'Adiós'. Specifically, you will be able to enjoy a Premium experience in the Tourist Centers.
In addition to the winners, the jury has selected six finalists, who are "Untitled" by Roberto Tejera de León, 'Untitled' by Francisco Pisonero, 'The Islet Hunter' by José Manuel n, 'Conejero Romance' by Juan J. Beiro, 'Essay on Blindness' by Andrés Ad Hoc, and 'Untitled' by Guillermo Taviel de Andrade.
Winning Stories
First Prize: 'Untitled', by Roberto Tejera De León
It happens for an instant. It is difficult to see, but it is there. Hidden. Faint. At dawn, with the first lights of the day, the first shadows also appear. Then the silhouettes form before you. Giants of volcanic ash. Famished beings with large and sharp horns. Warriors in piercing armor, raising their swords high. Threatening. Defiant. An entire army of spectral creatures. But, in an instant, everything blurs to give way to a particular cactus rofera.
-So... is it just an illusion?
-That's right my friend, but don't underestimate illusions. Without them, what would the world be?
Second prize: 'Timanfaya', by Rosa Elena Betancor Lemes
That silence invaded the space previously occupied by engines, the tapping of coffee cups,... the voices, the footsteps of people, the haste, the water expelled as an
explosion...The noise faded away. That silence was not the usual one of night hours, but another, long one, of days, weeks. That silence made audible the air between the oars of the falcon, the chirping of sparrows, the cawing of crows, the swaying of insects in Hilario's old fig tree. That silence of the human, was occupied by the noisy silence of nature, which made the wild sovereign again.
Third prize: 'De los Verdes y el Violín', by Tomás Reyes
It was a dark time. The faces were left to the imagination, the guessing. The looks were fleeting, fearful. Sometimes inquisitive, intrigued by the mystery hidden by those pieces of fear that covered noses and mouths. Disposable fears, fears stamped with little flowers, fashionable fears.
I entered the cave also dark, barely a few spotlights illuminated the beautiful underground reliefs... And then I saw him. From his face only a look. From his hands began to come the sounds that transformed the darkness into light... And I forgot that it was a dark time.
Fourth prize: 'Adiós', by Lola Sanabria
You chose the wrong place. Among so many cacti, you were the ugly duckling, the thorniest, the tasteless and hollow, with nothing inside to offer. And you come with your head down, pretending to be deeply affected to tell me to give you Florita, to give you. Yeah, that it didn't happen like that, that you blamed yourself for the misdeed with your usual leading role. That's what outraged me the most. A cloud in my head and there you stay, with a good blow, broken neck and buried in the Cactus Garden, fertilizing the ground, as food for plants, Casimiro.
Finalist Stories
'Untitled', by Roberto Tejera de León
I saw you at the Mirador for the first time. Alone. Dejected. Under a blanket of gray clouds.-
What are you looking at?-
La Graciosa.
I watched, perplexed.
-You can't see anything...
-Just because you can't see it doesn't mean it's not there.
Silence sprouted, merciless.
-And you, what are you looking at?
-Sadness.
Confused, you frowned.
-How can you see it?
-Just because you can't see it doesn't mean it's not there.
Then I saw you smile for the first time.
But now you're not here. You left, without return.
However, I keep going up on cloudy days because, as you know, just because something can't be seen doesn't mean it's not there.
'Untitled', by Francisco Pisonero
It's been a year since I arrived on the island, and I still can't leave, and it's only my fault, mine for being a coward, I keep my routine every week, visiting the Cueva de Los Verdes, the Jameos del Agua on Tuesdays and the Castillo de San José on Fridays. And although I am delighted with the climate and the warmth of its people, what really caught me were the eyes of a tour guide, I should finally dare to say something but... Oh, if I wasn't so cowardly!
'The Islet Hunter', by Jose Manuel n
Between cliffs, seas and beaches, huge creatures sail towards the shore, but they never manage to reach the desired place.
They remain visible, before the eyes of the islanders, who can do little for them. Like anchored islets, one large and two smaller ones, they awaken all eyes... Their drawings, shapes and colors, combined with their sea and their sky, achieve a picture that only a great artist can capture... the immensity prevents it, but immense is their capacity: A window that does not attend to forms, stops the creatures and now they shine like never before.
'Conejero Romance', by Juan J. Beiro
The sea that saw me born
flowed into these beaches.
And here I am among palm trees,
between verodes and aulagas.
Here I saw my dreams grow
with perenquenes and hubaras,
and the blind little crabs
from the "Jameos del Agua".
Here I planted my roots,
in this burnt land,
to the heat of the volcanoes
that feed my hope.
Here I live my silences.
Here I can listen to my soul,
which is the soul of these people
warm and hospitable...
People of sea and countryside,
parrandera and campechana,
hot and welcoming...
May its flame not be extinguished!
'Essay on Blindness', by Andrés Ad Hoc
-Are all the little crabs really blind?- the child was amazed by the pyrotechnics of colors and reflections inside the jameo.
-Well, almost blind -the mother consulted the screen of her phone. The father took pictures with his-. They are albino crabs... And almost blind.
The child did not take his eyes off the constellation of white crabs.
-What if there was one that could see really well? Would anyone notice?
-Your mother has already told you that they are all practically blind.
-That's right. And look here. Smile. Come on, we still have many more to see
'Untitled', by Guillermo Taviel de Andrade
Yesterday you and I loved each other gracioso, as volcano and fire love each other. As the sea sighs to the wind, as the earth to the rye. We were passion and joy, we were youth and moment. Today a river separates us and from a viewpoint I contemplate you. Today we have nothing left, except a beautiful memory. A memory that is not ours, because it belongs to time. Others will live their idyll but never like ours. Goodbye gracioso, until the dream reunites us.
