by Laila Amado
The artist came to town in September. He was quite a celebrity, his work evocative of early Picasso with its dancing shadows and splashes of ethereal light.
In the Arts School auditorium students crowded the stage, asking for autographs, offering to pose. She was thrilled when he chose her to sit for a portrait. After the first session, her roommate said she looked pale. After the second, the colour of her eyes dulled.
At the vernissage, the viewers praised the painting for its vibrant colours, its unique palette. Rumours were that the model had gone missing. Disappeared without a trace.
Author bio: Laila Amado has lived in four countries on two very different continents and is now settling into her new island life. A scientist by day, she is a writer of fiction and poetry by night. You can find her work in 365 Tomorrows, 101 Fiction, Enchanted Conversation Magazine, Gyroscope Review, and other publications. Follow her on Twitter at @onbonbon7
Appropriation is part of 101 Fiction issue 23.
Showing posts with label Laila Amado. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Laila Amado. Show all posts
Monday, 10 June 2019
Saturday, 8 December 2018
Digital
by Laila Amado
“You’ve reached Technical Support – virus, hacking, or possession?”
“Well, the browser freezes and there’s this music and the sound of static. It closes the files I’m working on and changes them, adds letters.”
“I can see an intrusion, but the trace... disappears. What do the letters say?”
The laptop’s on my bed, the eye of its webcam flashing. I go through the affected files and jot down the letters, keep searching. When I’m finished, my eyes are burning. The words on the paper quiver: “They are coming for you, Rabbit. Run.”
Only my brother called me Rabbit. My dead brother.
Author bio: Laila Amado is a migrating researcher currently adjusting to life somewhere in Southern Europe. Writing flash fiction makes her happy. You can meet her @onbonbon7
“You’ve reached Technical Support – virus, hacking, or possession?”
“Well, the browser freezes and there’s this music and the sound of static. It closes the files I’m working on and changes them, adds letters.”
“I can see an intrusion, but the trace... disappears. What do the letters say?”
The laptop’s on my bed, the eye of its webcam flashing. I go through the affected files and jot down the letters, keep searching. When I’m finished, my eyes are burning. The words on the paper quiver: “They are coming for you, Rabbit. Run.”
Only my brother called me Rabbit. My dead brother.
Author bio: Laila Amado is a migrating researcher currently adjusting to life somewhere in Southern Europe. Writing flash fiction makes her happy. You can meet her @onbonbon7
Digital is part of 101 Fiction issue 21.
Sunday, 3 September 2017
Malfunction
by Laila Amado
– I swear the angel was assembled correctly. The box was intact, all the components were operational and I followed the instructions diligently. Took me ages to put together the wings – myriads of tiny copper and brass feathers had to fit in their correct places like puzzle pieces. Drove me crazy.
– No, I don’t know where he got a flaming sword. I sure didn’t give him one.
– Yes, I realise we will have to rebuild the whole thing again and we cannot afford the dinosaurs this time.
– No, sir. No vacation any time soon. Perfectly understood. Personal code – Lilith. Log out.
Author bio: Laila Amado lives in Upstate New York and occasionally writes fiction. You can meet her here: @onbonbon7 https://twitter.com/onbonbon7
Malfunction is part of 101 Fiction issue 16.
– I swear the angel was assembled correctly. The box was intact, all the components were operational and I followed the instructions diligently. Took me ages to put together the wings – myriads of tiny copper and brass feathers had to fit in their correct places like puzzle pieces. Drove me crazy.
– No, I don’t know where he got a flaming sword. I sure didn’t give him one.
– Yes, I realise we will have to rebuild the whole thing again and we cannot afford the dinosaurs this time.
– No, sir. No vacation any time soon. Perfectly understood. Personal code – Lilith. Log out.
Author bio: Laila Amado lives in Upstate New York and occasionally writes fiction. You can meet her here: @onbonbon7 https://twitter.com/onbonbon7
Malfunction is part of 101 Fiction issue 16.
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