A pair of social misfits desecrate the grave of an evil priest, sparking hellish retribution. Seven other stories tinged with magic realism and the supernatural in this collection by veteran newspaper writer Aurelio Sanchez
Collection of eight short stories includes a modern version of La Llorona, the murderous mom condemned to search for eternity for her two murdered children. In the Hanging Tree, a young boy is unjustly lynched in a cottonwood he planted as a child, and later finds justice with the help of the supernatural. In Chupacabra, a mysterious brutish beast from another dimension falls in love with a young beauty, and saves her from destruction, and thus becomes more human himself. Seven other stories. Go to Lulu.com and type in search my book no: 1766318 for my book of short stories and number 1766318 for book of poetry called "Of a Dream Catcher."
Excerpt
Arturo cringed as Uly opened the car door. It squealed like a car alarm, and both men froze. A steady chorus of cicadas and the low hollow drone of bullfrogs lent an eerie din to the night. Uly motioned for Arturo to stay in the car while Uly went to scout, and Arturo nodded his assent.
Arturo dabbed at the sweat trickling down his face. Goose bumps scurried like spiders over his body at every sound from the bosque, the forest of cottonwoods that lined the river like giant skeletons. A coyote yipped in a high-pitched howl, setting off a chain reaction of barking dogs. A cat shrieked unnaturally, in the killing jaws of the coyote..
From the branches of a tree overhead, an owl screeched, and Arturo jumped. He was glad no-one was there to see it; he didn’t like to show fear.
Arturo looked in the car mirror, a habit of vanity he'd had all his life. A thin mustache covered his upper lip; a flat nose – the result of having been broken many times – clung to his face, which was sharply angular and bronze, like the face on a copper penny. His hands were hard and sharp like broken glass. His eyes were the color of forged steel; penetrating with a reptilian quality.
A putrid smell of death drifted from the river. A beaver's leathery carcass floated past like a discarded tire.
Arturo sat up alertly when he saw a hunched figure moving stealthily toward the car. Uly stood up, the full moon illuminating him briefly as he motioned for Arturo to follow.
They sneaked like escaping prisoners along the drainage ditch that ran parallel to the river. Arturo knew if they were caught, they'd end up in the state prison on the other side of the river.
They followed the chain link cemetery fence dense with clinging vines, that appeared in the darkness to be arms reaching out of the graves. They jumped over a low spot where the fence sagged. In the lurid glow of the full moon, dark shadows moved, cast by headstones of varying sizes, and weathered wooden crosses.
Rosaries jingled in the wind, and shadows danced haltingly like troubled souls. The men worked their way to the far end of the cemetery, where the mounds of dirt had few grave stones, and weeds grew so thick it was hard to walk.
Finally, the two men stood over an unmarked grave. The grave had caved in, a hole in the center growing like an open gaping wound. With his eyes, Arturo asked Uly if he was sure this was the grave. Uly nodded yes. Uly took two collapsible shovels from a burlap bag tied to his waist, and handed one to Arturo. They started to dig.
BLIND!
Ross Miller doesn’t have anything to live for anymore. An RPG attack in Afghanistan left him blind and he thought helpless.
He tried going home but that didn’t work out. Luke and Amber Owens who were both wounded in the same
