Laura Camacho Frias

“Three” by Laura Camacho Frias

Submitted to Contest #290

[You can decide how to read this story: Read the paragraphs up--> down, or scroll down and read your way up. Enjoy]--------------- Three o'clock. The bells chimed with uncontained joy, the frogs in the garden's pond croaked, and the priest said out loud, "You can kiss the bride." The guests clapped and cheered for them. The noise was unbearable, and the echoes in the building sounded like the roar of a hundred lions. Elias cupped his spouse's face with his hands and approached his lips to hers, but when they touched, she did not move. She...

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“Happy Never After” by Laura Camacho Frias

Submitted to Contest #289

[Ernesto] I reached the exit door, happy that no one had punched or yelled at me, but as happens to the overconfident, my happiness did not last long. Someone came after me and grabbed my shoulder, an older man I recognized as the groom's father. I turned my head, saw his fist, and heard:"You stupid son of…"He had no time to say anything else. Before his fist could even touch my face, I saw someone else come between us, someone who threw a punch at him: the bride's mother. "You knew it!" she cried. She looked at me and gently said, "Thank yo...

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“Washed away” by Laura Camacho Frias

Submitted to Contest #288

"Get out now! I'm telling you! Either you open that damned door, or I will knock it down!"He was completely soaked. The rain had not stopped for days, and no one was on the streets but him, competing with the deafening noise of the droplets hitting the roofs and windows. His shouting and screaming, though, was nothing like the water's roar. People had been complaining for months about the lack of rain and the cuts in the water supply, but after a whole week of nothing but water around us, no one spoke about that anymore. The river level had ...

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“You can't always have what you want” by Laura Camacho Frias

Submitted to Contest #287

After weeks of messages, everyone was in town. The last time I had shared coffee with my girlfriends had been six months before, during the Christmas holiday. That rainy afternoon, while they told me horror stories about children's presents and family dinners, I smiled inside, grateful for my simpler life, which did not require as much work or stress as theirs seemed to. I could not stop wondering what the point of such a daily rush and continuous pressure was when it was clear to me that it did not make them as happy as they pretended to be...

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“That one day” by Laura Camacho Frias

Submitted to Contest #285

I had to pee. I woke up in the middle of the night and walked the corridor to the bathroom. I was exhausted. I had not slept properly for weeks, and to make it worse, I felt like an old lady, having to visit the bathroom at least twice every night. With my eyes closed, I sat on the toilet and started to think about everything I was supposed to do the next day, or in three hours, to be more specific. Things at work had been complicated at best. We were in the middle of a department restructuring, and I was supposed to make my case to keep all...

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“The present” by Laura Camacho Frias

Submitted to Contest #284

"I don't think I can give you a promotion this year," he said. I felt a kick in my stomach. I wanted to scream and cry. Still, I did none of those things, and instead, I smiled at my manager. The year before, he had made me believe-- during the recruitment process-- I had better chances to climb the Corporate ladder by working in his department, but sitting in front of him in that tiny meeting room, I felt like a fool. Once more, I heard how difficult it was to make upper management give me an opportunity. After all, I did not behave as expe...

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“Job description, role (un)clarity” by Laura Camacho Frias

Submitted to Contest #283

[Continuation of Story Submitted to Contest #281 "Becoming"]I wasn't expecting that.My boss's smile was getting creepier and creepier, and I was losing my patience. Maybe it was because I had finally woken up to all the news of blood, job change, and world domination—this last one had not been mentioned, but the part about blood drainage and corporate vampirism made me think about it."I'm sorry, I'm what?" I asked. The cut on my arm was completely healed, and I still held the ceramic piece I'd used to prove my point."Part of the management t...

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“Becoming” by Laura Camacho Frias

[Continuation of Story Submitted to Contest #279 "The promotion"]"Nothing will taste the same," he said. "I'm really sorry we had to do it like this, but there was no other choice. The budget has been tight this year, and I only knew I could propose this to you this morning.""This? What is this? I don't understand what you said or what you are doing here. What are you doing in my house?" I said, looking at the coffee machine. I had not pressed the "On" button yet because his words had triggered something in me I couldn't understand. I had re...

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“Forgotten” by Laura Camacho Frias

Submitted to Contest #280

"Rita, is everything okay. Did I forget to kiss you goodnight?""Open the door immediately, Ernesto. We need to talk." "I'm here, it's open, what's happening?""How could you? Why didn't you tell me?""You seem upset. I don't understand.""I'm not upset; I'm furious! You should have told me!""What are you talking about?""We did it! We did it, and you said nothing.""Can you be a little bit more specific?""You need details?""If you don't mind, it would really help me to know what you are speaking about.""You think you are at work? Speaking wi...

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“The promotion” by Laura Camacho Frias

Submitted to Contest #279

This whole mess started last year, three weeks before Christmas. I was then working in a big company where everyone moved a lot, but no one really knew what they were doing. "Chasing the future," "shaping the world," and "Bending the rules of engineering" were our mottos, which, looking back, sound borderline delusional, but back in those days, it was my way of life. I was doing something awesome, even if it was almost impossible to describe my job or challenges to anyone from the outside world. It was too complicated and abstract, and I had...

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“Happy deathday to me” by Laura Camacho Frias

Submitted to Contest #272

Life is not easy on the other side. I should not even call it life, but death— because that's what I am, a dead person— but this thing of the non-living entity is relatively recent, and I haven't gone through the whole set of rules. There was a lot of bureaucracy when I walked the Earth, but now that my feet don't touch the ground, I cannot say things are much better. Maybe it's a question of time— apparently, I am expected to spend a minimum of a hundred years in "the parallel"— and perhaps I will make friends soon, but so far, if I had to ...

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“Soft as a winter kiss” by Laura Camacho Frias

Submitted to Contest #271

It was a sunny day, slightly windy. The weather had changed, as it does by the end of September, and I had picked a light coat from my wardrobe after a few months of short sleeves and flowy dresses. I had bought it the previous year, in a second-hand store, because it had that classic touch that could match most of my clothes, and the touch of it was silky. After wearing it a couple of times, I realized that touching it was comforting, and that's why I had used it a bunch before the good temperatures arrived, and I chose more summery outfits...

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“The perfect woman” by Laura Camacho Frias

Submitted to Contest #270

Perfect is not easy. Everyone wants perfection, but very few are ready to achieve it. Based on the number of requests received, sent to the universe, and accepted by this greater power, let us show you—in a few steps—how it is done.Note to those who dare to attempt this recipe: do not rush. This is a complicated technique; any attempt to shorten the process might lead to undesired results.Don't do this just because others did. There is no point. This decision is too important to be based on fashion, trends, or anyone else's expectations. You...

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“The shoes ” by Laura Camacho Frias

Submitted to Contest #269

I grew up having enough. I had one parent who took care of me, a reasonable-sized home, a few books, and some toys. At school, I had a couple of friends, and despite my grades not being phenomenal, they were not bad either. I knew how to live with enough, but a tiny part of me dreamed of something else. My mother worked in the fast fashion industry. I remember looking at the catalogs for hours, touching the fake cashmere, and looking at the shiny silks. I was allowed to sew dresses for my dolls with fabric scraps, and from time to time,...

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“The player” by Laura Camacho Frias

Submitted to Contest #268

When I opened the wardrobe that morning, the rod collapsed, and a pile of clothes fell at my feet. I was late for work, the kids were fighting about which snack to bring to school, and I had a tremendous headache due to the lack of sleep sponsored by my dear husband's snoring. In other words, it was a regular day in our household. After all, what would it be like to live without a bit of excitement? That's what my mother usually told me. Still, I am sure she's only able to say it out loud because she lived alone, in a calm and silent environ...

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