FeaturedThe teenager who couldn’t translate his feelings

The teenager who couldn’t translate his feelings

A foreign teenager — stepping into unknown territory?

Letters&Poetry

Opening the door carefully, Amir came in, back from his late soccer training. His younger brothers were already sleeping. Well, not all of them; Malik’s bed was empty. That rascal! Out in the night again! After all those reprimands, he does not learn how to behave. He just feels and does whatever he pleases. And that isn’t proper. Not for this family.

The problem is: Malik has become a teenager here, in this country where they arrived a year ago. Always hanging around with all those other mischievous, spoilt guys. And it is obvious that their beloved mom is missing. Poor mom, she passed away when Amir, the elder, was just thirteen. And Malik, always the black sheep, is badly needing her. He is so immature…

Amir is not that mature, either. But at least he is conscious enough. And that hurts him a lot. Because he knows how he…

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The Dreadlock Wig

The Dreadlock Wig (Spanish: “La peluca de rastas”) is a Spanish-language coming-of-age story by Fabio Descalzi. It tells the mishaps, excesses and dilemmas experienced by Crispin, a runaway but charming teenager who smokes weed and uses dreads.

It was published in September 2016 at the literary magazine “Luz de Candil”.

El blog de Fabio

Dreadlocks back

Isaura me acarició las rastas, mientras me dormía despacio sobre las sábanas verdosas. El humo de marihuana apenas brotaba de los restos del cenicero de madera. Se acarició la barriga de seis meses donde Roni disfrutaba de su confort amniótico. Se recostó boca arriba y poco a poco fue conciliando el sueño.

***

—Crispín, no te me quedes. Te tengo que hablar.
Abrí los ojos medio despistado. Hacía tiempo que no escuchaba esa voz.
—Crispín, mi hijo querido. Te estás quedando. Ya no te queda tiempo.
Era mamá. Se me apareció en una visión radiante. Su figura esbelta flotaba encima de la perfecta redondez de la barriga de Isaura. Mis rastas adornaban el conjunto.

***

Las rastas. Esa moda rara que a papá no le gustaba nada, ahora era un furor. Mucha gente quería lucirlas. Pocos tenían paciencia para hacérselas. Fue otro de mis caprichos. Papá no supo detenerme. Como…

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