Dalia Navarez

“I Know What's in the Attic” by Dalia Navarez

There’s a vase in the attic. Simple as that, really.It is old, and it belonged to an ancestor of many great-greats, my nana once told me. I remember hearing that from her when I was maybe five, and I guess it just stuck with me. And since I have known this little fact since I was maybe five, the age when all things seem a little more important than they really are, I have never thought of this little fact as a very dull fact to know. In fact, I think of it as a very exciting one to have and to hold knowledge to. That is, by the fac...

0 likes 0 comments 0

Read story

“President Tree” by Dalia Navarez

Submitted to Contest #90

Disclaimer: Facts provided throughout this literary journal may or may not be true. Do not use to reference any relevant information regarding that of the beloved George Washington. Please enjoy! Saturday February 22, 1738 Garnets and looms do not cease to amaze me, yet, for reasons I cannot explain, my father’s cherry tree is where I write this. My sister Betty, my brothers and I have nam...

8 likes 0 comments 0

Read story

“Bananas in the Flesh” by Dalia Navarez

Submitted to Contest #89

Leticia peeled the ends of her banana slowly, waiting for the glow of yeast rising and the burnt smell of foil wilting through the oven. Brown spots covering the bottom of her banana tapped their soggy fingers with her anxiously, desperately. The oven timer dinged.“Naomi!” she yells at the top of her lungs, arthritis gripping at her spine as she tries to get up.A young woman wearing old friendship bracelets and a new university sweater ran from the apartment staircase to grab Leticia. Her mocha thick hair fell messily above ...

12 likes 0 comments 0

Read story

“Dandelion Whiskers” by Dalia Navarez

Submitted to Contest #88

Blazes of fiery orange fur were swept into an open sewer by a straw broomstick in the hands of our nurse, Lidia. The cat from which those ginger tufts came from laid sleepily on the floor besides the grim skull fragments and small boning knife, a woolen blanket pulled gently over its soft head. I will miss him, whatever his name was.Nurse Lidia’s slender, zig-zag tail unjumbled upright at a noise coming from underneath our feet. One of the stone trapdoors springed open with a harsh bang, revealing Father and his servants carrying f...

9 likes 0 comments 0

Read story

“96 Percent” by Dalia Navarez

Submitted to Contest #87

“Y’know, if a guy thinks he’s bad even though he’s actually pretty good: he’s an idiot.” Reese took a gulp out of something in a brown paper bag. “But if a guy thinks he’s doing good, even though he’s actually chunking some other guy’s guts out: he’s a freaking vigilante!”He took an A&W can out of the bag, crushed it against a wall, and threw it into a trash can across the hall. The can hit the rim and spinned about a million times before giving up, falling into the empty trash can with a metal clank of brown, syrupy splatter.<...

18 likes 2 comments 2

Read story

“Why You Shouldn't Hate the World” by Dalia Navarez

Submitted to Contest #85

The smell of smoke residue from some teenagers inhaling cigarettes the other night clouded my senses as a nightly trail of drool went up my nose, the simultaneous wail of a police siren and deathly red of an ambulance hovering in the distance doing nothing to help them. I grumbled a sarcastic ‘good morning’ to myself before peeling myself out of the cold mattress called ‘my bed’ to brush my face.Hmmm… yeah...I had to rethink that thought as I grabbed the red toothbrush and wiggled the last remains of toothpaste from the shri...

11 likes 0 comments 0

Read story

“My Crazy Uncle” by Dalia Navarez

Submitted to Contest #84

He said a platypus with velvet wings told him to drive the train through Portland. He said the wooly scarf with ugly stitching he had worn told him to drive it through the tumbledown doughnut shop.He now sits in a white room with fluffy walls and liquid food. Mama takes me to see him on the first day of every month at 9:02am. She likes to call him ‘poor Cody,’ but I like to call him ‘crazy uncle’ because he likes to pick his nose with his big toe like me. Mama tells me not to laugh when he does that, though, because it’s something ...

8 likes 2 comments 2

Read story

“Eda” by Dalia Navarez

Submitted to Contest #83

I’m like the teacher from the Peanuts comics; of all the important, life-enticing things a person could say, Charlie Brown won’t listen to me. It always seemed to be the same with me and Eda. Eda and I. I don’t care much for the proper grammar. Arranging my words like a psychiatrist on syntax drugs wouldn’t get her to listen to me, anyway.“Hey! Don't get off the boat! It's not safe!”“What was that? Nevermind, everyone off the raft; I see an elevated platform!”Damn your better vocabulary....

6 likes 0 comments 0

Read story

“Shoot Me a Power Ranger” by Dalia Navarez

Jikkie trampled after his big sister who was mocking his distinguishable waddle. Her hands waved in the air as she lured him into running with a McDonald’s Power Rangers toy that had recently been found mottled in ketchup and alleged mayonnaise. The only thing he wanted was to beat his sister at something. Anything, really. “Give it back, Myla!” He yelled, not knowing whether that would really help him o...

2 likes 0 comments 0

Read story

“'Moon' would be a cool title” by Dalia Navarez

As the city apartment lights dimmed away slowly, a little girl in princess pajamas snuggled up to her favorite companion. Inside her warm embrace, her buddy meowed in satisfaction as she sang a faint lullaby to him. “I wuv you, Jetty.” The little princess cooed, snuggling into a soft pillow while her best friend laid curled by her bare feet. ‘Wuv,’ the ginger-spotted cat thought, ‘what a weird ...

2 likes 0 comments 0

Read story

“At Least the Kids Weren't There” by Dalia Navarez

Submitted to Contest #80

  Under the gleam of the April sun and whispers of fluttering hummingbirds, Tony flung a snotball at Marie. Marie ran away from the group screaming, and Pamela chased after her striped sundress in case someone tried to kidnap her again. Mrs. Dhupta, who was chastising Tony for not cleaning his nose on the bus, shouted at Marie to slow down and Pamela to mind her own beeswax as the class stood to take a picture beside the...

8 likes 0 comments 0

Read story

“Ghost Eyes and Cyberspace” by Dalia Navarez

Submitted to Contest #79

Casaya dripped of instability as we watched 1s and 0s fall from his mind into a sea of cerulean radio waves. Maybe it was due to our lack of emotional intelligence, but neither Yinna or I cried for him. The next moment, Casaya was gone, only to be a part of the universe of expired binary numbers. Casaya's lasting energy left a silhouette of his shapeless figure. Certain sections made their way to the invisible escape above us in unorganized spasms. Yinna went straight for the board of prototype names and marked down the name of Prototyp...

5 likes 0 comments 0

Read story

“A Dino That Typed” by Dalia Navarez

Submitted to Contest #78

  January 28, 2021 The final analysis and data reports had been turned into Professor Curton, and the printer stirred quietly as the warm packets of his recent studies popped out one by one. His presentation tomorrow would be concerning the middle and high school proportion of the town, hoping to end the growing anxiety for some adolescents of the new generation.   The new technology gave him blisters to maneuver ...

5 likes 8 comments 8

Read story

“The Snowshine State” by Dalia Navarez

Submitted to Contest #77

  As the assistant principal Mr. Boyle recited the Pledge of Allegiance through the loudspeakers, I bowed my head to look at Damian. As if it were some kind of twin telepathy, he lowered his head on his desk as I did mine at practically the same time. With one look in the eye, we shared one single thought: the thought to leave. The long days and even longer hours of summer school were too tiresome to tolerate. Especially...

11 likes 0 comments 0

Read story