UPDATE:
The published the results... tonight. I'm not one of the finalists... I was just politely invited to assist to the award giving ceremony.
But thank you anyway!
I'll be back with such a topic when the on-line voting for my other ongoing literary competition is enabled aranoid: ...
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I've written a short story for an on-line competition and I have the feeling that the two "honorable mentions" (or whatever they are called, they are some kind of "sub-awards") are related to the two elements the site keeps track of: number of readers and rating.
And here I come asking you for a pageview and, if you feel generous, a simple click in the third star on the right, to rate it.
http://www.relatscurts.tmb.cat/aspx/ca- ... x?sid=3435
Mods, feel free to delete or move this thread to the forum you feel it's more convenient... I have to feel I feel a little unconfortable writing this post, but the freaking site is favouring a story by having it on the front page as "todays story" for almost a month, and it's not giving us the results even when they postponed the day (to last Thursday). And It made me feel rebellious! :grrr: aranoid:
Thanks!
EDIT:
here you have a quick, too literal translation of my story. It's for a contest organized by the organism that controls the public transportation in Barcelona... So it had to happen on a bus or a subway or have something to do with them.
The published the results... tonight. I'm not one of the finalists... I was just politely invited to assist to the award giving ceremony.
But thank you anyway!
I'll be back with such a topic when the on-line voting for my other ongoing literary competition is enabled aranoid: ...
-------------------------
I've written a short story for an on-line competition and I have the feeling that the two "honorable mentions" (or whatever they are called, they are some kind of "sub-awards") are related to the two elements the site keeps track of: number of readers and rating.
And here I come asking you for a pageview and, if you feel generous, a simple click in the third star on the right, to rate it.
http://www.relatscurts.tmb.cat/aspx/ca- ... x?sid=3435
Mods, feel free to delete or move this thread to the forum you feel it's more convenient... I have to feel I feel a little unconfortable writing this post, but the freaking site is favouring a story by having it on the front page as "todays story" for almost a month, and it's not giving us the results even when they postponed the day (to last Thursday). And It made me feel rebellious! :grrr: aranoid:
Thanks!
EDIT:
here you have a quick, too literal translation of my story. It's for a contest organized by the organism that controls the public transportation in Barcelona... So it had to happen on a bus or a subway or have something to do with them.
I’ve neven been able to understand maps, and, since I can remember, my sense of orientation hasn’t been useful for me even to find my own nose. It’s because of this that, the first time I did it, nobody believed me. “You have decided to get on a random subway and get lost on purpose? Yeah, right...”
By now, they have accepted it. My favourite passtime is to get on a random bus, subway or underground train without looking wich one it is or where it goes.
My mother, my poor mother, is still worried, asking me every time for the reason I do it, asking what I’m looking for, begging that I stop it because it’s a dangerous hobby. I have to admit that, sometimes, I have landed in dangerous neighbourhoods, and I have been robbed twice, menaced with a knife.
But I don’t care, these “trips”, as I call them, open the world to me. My nostrils expand to percieve the always changing odor of streets and people, and my mind also opens up to sniff the ideas, cultures, personalities and diverse people I find in my voyages:
The desert and perfect streets, flanked by immaculate gardens and fragrant flowers of the rich neighbourhood where I sometimes end up.
The narrow and ancient alleys of the old town that sparkle with new life, full of exotic men that have come to the city I travel through with the hope of a better life.
The desolate and grey sadness of the industrial zone I walk in, that mutates into dance and fun when, on the weekends, the flocks of workers are substituted by young people that want to party.
But, wile I embark on an unknown bus, walk through the unknown destination it has brought me to, or I search for a subway line that brings me to Catalonia Square, the place from wich I know how to get home, I always have the voice of my mother inside my head. Worried because of me, of my trips, she asks me what I want, what I’m looking for getting lost. Asking why, even if I love to get soaked in the world, I can never have enough and I always try to get more and more lost.
What can I answer to this mother that accompanies me?
Today I went out for a trip, and while I was waiting for the bus, came the voice. “My son, what are you looking for?”
The truth is, like always, that I don’t know.
Getting on, I greeted the driver. “My son, what are you looking for?”
No idea.
While I opened the wallet, with the crack, full of static, of the veteran velcro. “My son, what are you looking for.
And then, while I heard the son of the ticket sliding into the machine, I found the answer.
And you looked back at me.