Spanish & English literary work by London-based translator and writer Fátima López Sevilla. (http://fatimalopezsevilla.com)
What will I be reading, I’ll publish tomorrow. Today I am posting the short story I read last autumn at the East Finchley Arts Festival 2012. I read this short story as a member of the East Finchley Writers group and we got our little participation act reviewed on the November issue of The Archer, a local newspaper. You can read it here or down here:
Writers and their work
Review by Daphne Chamberlain
East Finchley Writers Group are now veterans of the Arts Festival. It is a wonderful opportunity to showcase their work to all festival-goers, as well as to satisfy the curiosity of friends and relations.
As usual, this year’s programme had something for everyone, including short stories, poems, extracts from novels, travel writing, and even a piece of bilingual flash fiction. What’s that? A very, very short piece, read both in the author’s native Spanish and in English.
It doesn’t matter whether you are a published author or a complete beginner (and we heard some of each). When you are reading aloud, you must grab your listeners’ attention, and the group grabbed well.
Some of the readings were very memorable. Who could forget the door-to-door salesman who sold misery? It was a nice selection too, with nothing too long.
I will be reviewing their latest anthology next month.
East Finchley Writers meet on Wednesdays at the Old White Lion. For more details, contact Carola on 020 8883 5808.
As you can see, my story was featured in the review, as it was one of my flash-fiction pieces translated from Spanish into English and I read both versions.
Enjoy. And all comments are welcome.
Como los ángeles al caer el Sol, ellos brillaban con un blanco que cegaba. Vio a través de la celosía que formaban las pestañas de sus ojos entrecerrados cómo las blancas figuras se iban acercando a él.
Sintió que le rodeaban, les olía mientras murmuraban, oía cómo le palpaban, se vio flotar… ¿quizás sí fuesen ángeles?
Y se fue la luz, y mientras oía algo sobre mucha sangre, se preguntó si no serían vampiros con plumas de ángel.
Like angels when sunset came, they glowed with a blinding white light. Eyes half-closed, he could see through the lattice of his lashes these white figures approaching him.
He could feel them surrounding him. He could smell them whispering. He could hear them touching him. He could see himself floating…. Maybe they WERE angels?
The light went off, all the while hearing something about “a lot of blood”, and he wondered if they were vampires disguised as angels.