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Postmortem photographs (short story)

long Sarah was going to hurt me with their indifference! Anyone in my place would do the same. There is a limit where even more upright ends ethical compromise. My friends, those who helped me achieve the unthinkable, now criticize me for the profane, by misusing our abominable creation. But, is that she had achieved perfection in the art of ignoring. It was so beautiful! His deep eyes made me shiver, but never looked at me, his hands, thin, perfect, his eyebrows arched and shrewd, her voluptuous body, sensual, and her lips always wet, ready to kiss any mouth that was not mine. I tried to be her friend, approached her and earn confidence, but nothing seemed to be.

Tired and helpless, I decided to use the only weapon with which nature endowed me, my intelligence, and access to biological laboratories of my ability. With the help of my closest circle of friends, outstanding students of genetics, chemistry, biochemistry, a renowned neurosurgeon, and telling me as a conductor, we undertake the thorny search for stealing one of the deepest secrets and best kept Nature: to synthesize the most powerful hormones of love in a single chemical, which could steal anyone his identity, his thoughts, his soul unique and unrepeatable, and put the total mercy of the donor of some special moods to play the potion. The victim, to smell a bit of liquor, was experiencing a total and irreversible slavery, as strong as a submission to the queen bee, with the same madness of a dog struck by the zeal of a congener, turned on his partner as the male of the mantis, to the death if necessary. Irrational, absurd and unethical, but very effective.

My friends thought they were investigating for the sake of science, and believed that the money I made available to fund our studies was disinterested. When we finished the substance, and I saw one of the tubes subtracting accruing to try to Sara criticized and judged me harshly. But ... What could I say? While beside me, looking with loving eyes, salivating for me, chasing me everywhere I go with the veneration that he is a god, how I can import the trial of anyone? I'm happy with her body, but just be a shell, and pay any hell in order to continue enjoying the heaven of their arms, this moment frozen in time as the old post mortem photographs.

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short story - A new day

do that I get to be near Sofia, and see it grow a little more each day, how he plays, how he learns so much! It's beautiful. His laughter is fresh, his gaze is pure fire, and his mind is as agile and graceful as a gazelle. It is possible that you want more, not that I feel more proud of her.

not met her before, but now I was very sick. For the suffering of their parents, was born with a serious heart problem that made his early years living with a host of limitations. I could barely stand up, down stairs, or bathing singing as they do all girls age. I spent much time in bed, and every word could be the last. It was not known when he went to bed to sleep, if he would get up the next day, and everyone at home felt they would not be worth living without your smile, without the joy of his presence. Loved her and now I love him, and cried so much for her and his destiny.

I was about your age when I started to suffer from fever and headaches. My parents did not know of the seriousness of my illness, and when I was taken to hospital and was brain dead because of meningitis. She was in the same hospital, dying helplessly, until a doctor I proposed to my pious parents who saved this girl giving him my heart. They accepted, perhaps to redeem himself in the eyes of God through ignorance and neglect, yet feeling very sad about my departure. And from that operation, I was tied to Sofia, forever at his side, watching and loving your beauty, and feeling infinitely happy to know that within my heart is beating his chest.