The F.S. Chronicle

The Secret in the Box


The secret of the world is in a box, she said, as she smiled at me for the last time and walked out of the house forever. I was a kid then, but something inside of me knew that there … Continue reading

Continue Reading    

Conversations on a Park Bench


I dreamed we were fifteen, and we were walking in the desert, somewhere far and exotic. Maybe the Sonora Desert in Mexico, or perhaps somewhere in Peru. There we were, the six of us, young and beautiful, walking through the … Continue reading

Continue Reading    

Elements of Serendipity


Chance plays a big role when it comes to owning things; I’m a firm believer in this. Chance, or faith, or coincidences, even destiny, have something to do with the things one finds or runs upon, and ends up owning. … Continue reading

Continue Reading    

Colors of Summers Past


Memories are colors and images blending together, floating in a cloud of nostalgia, and evolving as time goes by. At least, that’s how my memories work, and I keep them as a collection of paintings that tell my time and … Continue reading

Continue Reading    

Talking Lamps


There is someone living inside my lamps. I know it sounds strange, but please, let me explain. There is someone, two different people actually, living inside my pair of lamps. I’ve heard them talk, I’ve heard them reminisce about the … Continue reading

Continue Reading    

A Plume of Love


The room was dark and silent, and he got up slowly after having woken up almost jumping. It was the middle of the night, and he felt tired. Perhaps he had had bad dreams, or maybe he heard a noise … Continue reading

Continue Reading    

The Setting in The Forest


The world was so new for us then, that every place was a discovery. So much time has passed; so much time, that sometimes I wonder if some of those experiences really took place, or if it was me who … Continue reading

Continue Reading    

Bygones of The Sea


The sea always called my name, or at least that’s what I would like to believe. Since an early age, I’ve been fascinated with that giant body of water, which felt so close but also so far. I fell in … Continue reading

Continue Reading    

Ardor for the Past


Entering the room the man felt the weight of the past one more time; what was quotidian or even mundane once, had been transformed by a new light of nostalgia and longing. He heard their voices, their songs, their stories, … Continue reading

Continue Reading