Alejandro de Gutierre
Achievements (1)
Stories (7/0)
I cradle a dear friend
I cradle a dear friend while the sun shines on us. My back is against a stucco wall that forms one border of a terraced fruit orchard. It’s late fall, so the leaves are dying, yet the sun radiates heat and makes it feel more like late summer. Hummingbirds titter in the branches and a soft breeze stirs the dry leaves so that they rustle lightly. The ground is littered with fallen leaves that fold and curl in on themselves.
By Alejandro de Gutierre2 years ago in Petlife
What the Silver Dust Conceals
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. But the mind fills in the blanks. When Mark’s jaw flies open on the video feed, face shield knocked loose and eyes peeling back, I know the sound that he makes. I’ve heard him laugh, shout, grunt – even cry. So my brain knows the sound of his scream without needing to hear it. Alone on the command deck now, my fingers find the bridge of my nose and I clamp my eyes shut as I lean forward in my chair.
By Alejandro de Gutierre2 years ago in Fiction
The Houndstone Lie
The pack for the pack. —Canid pack motto There weren’t always dragons in the valley. I still have memories – fragments, really – of playing topside when I was a new pup. Now only hunting packs go up, and they seldom return whole. Paw says he dreads when it’s his turn, but he gets drool-y and wild eyed on his hunt-day mornings. As for Maw, well – Paw says she never pretended not to like her hunt days. He says she liked them too much.
By Alejandro de Gutierre2 years ago in Fiction
- Second Place in SFS 6: Green Light
Grandmother's HandsSecond Place in SFS 6: Green Light
My sister Gisela had already moved out of Portland so it was just me and mom when dad died—five years ago this month. I had my own place back then, but naturally I spent a lot of time at mom’s house when it happened. We would play the piano together or watch Gilmore Girls, but when I would start to cry, she would just sit there watching me for a little bit before standing up and silently excusing herself. She didn’t shut down or stop living or overcompensate with work or drinking, the way people sometimes do. She just wasn’t available.
By Alejandro de Gutierre3 years ago in Families
The Bovine of the Vanities
I stand at the entrance to the chicken coop, pressing my muzzle to a spot of hens’ blood on the door frame. My salivating becomes uncontrollable. When Kenny appears, I pretend to study the latch. “Didn’t master lock up?” I ask him.
By Alejandro de Gutierre3 years ago in Fiction
That's Not Right, Guy
Dawn breaks, crows scavenge, weeds strain through cracks in the concrete. A sooty haze chokes the air, tendrils of black smoke rising from the wildfires that scorch the remaining wilderness. Within an hour, heat will make a crucible of the megacity of Cascadia.
By Alejandro de Gutierre3 years ago in Fiction