Love #excerpt from the manuscript Glass Lovers

A sky of gray and pink tones was descending upon us. The ocean was petrified, its agitated face morphed into an immense silent mirror. A heavy silence was flowing between the high clouds and the water, meandering like a black venomous snake in a humid jungle.

Sitting on the shore, bewitched by love, none of us moved or spoke.

After a while, Miquel said:

“I stood up to my own God for you, Clara. When I will leave this world, I want you to know that will not kneel in front of Him to beg for forgiveness. If I have to burn in hell, so be it. Love has nothing to apologize for.”

He felt silent.

His green brilliant were eyes scrutinizing the horizon.

For some reason he looked to me like a new version of Columbus determined to reach the East Indies, and instead ending up in San Salvador. Was it better?

I turned toward him. Drops of water were trickling on his neck.

Was it raining, or was I crying?


20 thoughts on “Love #excerpt from the manuscript Glass Lovers

  1. You are so versatile. A lovely piece of writing Amiga. Great descriptions painted powerful images. And this piece left us asking questions and wanting more. That is exactly what a fiction writer must do. Mission accomplished. Bravo.

    1. Good morning, and thank you so much for your kind words! I am thrilled you like it!

      1. Thank you so much!!! “you know you have someone here waiting for your novel” that means the world to me! may you have a magic day!!!!

    1. Eric, always a pleasure to have you reading my posts. Thank you for your wonderful words! May you have a delightful weekend! I’ll be in touch.

  2. I cannot give another definition of this prose or poetry, except brilliant! The mix between reality and magic is incredible! Everything is visible and suffered, and at the same time it goes beyond the limits of the senses, beyond the limits of thought. Perhaps the exact definition in this case is silence. But at the same time, as a reader, I want to read the entire novel! Perhaps it is infinite. Maybe it’s a mirror, a mirror, a mirror … I do not know. I do not know if it’s rain or tears. Mine.

    1. Dear B, thank you so much for your wonderful comment! you comment is more beautiful than my prose!

  3. Even reading your prose is like reading a poem! You really know how to paint a vivid picture, and how to use beautiful words in the process. I am officially hooked and want to know more about these characters.


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