Author Archives: Manu

About Manu

Librarian turned fundraiser Manuela enjoys sharing stories, be they real or imaginary. She is part of 2 book clubs, attends weekly Toastmasters meetings, goes to the opera, sips wine with her meals and travels extensively with her family and friends.

Coffee chat

The noise and chatter draws you in as soon as you reach the glass doors. Step into the cafe and you are overflown by raucuous laughter, heated debates, shoulderslapping and shouts for “un vino mas”. It’s hard to reach the … Continue reading

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Dancing the Sevillana

The square heels chop at the floor in their staccato rhythm, tender at first, like a quiet longing, then growing more intense, eating up the stage in the throes of heated passion, a dizzying whirlwind of steps locked in battle, … Continue reading

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When Granada fell quiet

The shutter clicks open. Beatriz blinks into the white sun, the spicy smell of the jacarandas teasing her awake. The empy cobblestones breathe out into the silence, deep shadows straining up the hill towards the mottled walls of the Alhambra. … Continue reading

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The book hangover

Sluggish brain, red-rimmed eyes, feverish gums, aching limbs, a general state of lassitude punctured by guilt, with a blurry restlessness tugging at the edge of consciousness: if you recognize the symptoms, you likely recall your last hangover, the baffled sense … Continue reading

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Reading break

The first time I stepped into a student dorm I crimped my nose at the pervasive odor of reheated beans, burnt cornmeal mush and damp sweatpants poking out unmade beds; the stumps of unfiltered cigarettes smoked to the very butt, … Continue reading

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A Wallander first

A heavy blanket of snow muffles any sign of life coming from the Swedish farmstead. A frozen sliver of a moon casts purplish shadows across the track leading to the stable, smudging away the killer’s footprints until he is swallowed … Continue reading

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Playing with knives at the king’s table

The knife slices through the puff pastry, piling up almond paste along the blade. A tense hush, knuckles white on jugs sloshing with cider ale, nostrils flaring with frankincense and clove, pupils hard and wide as if witnessing heads rolling … Continue reading

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