LittleHobbit, Mestre do Universo dos Vermes

A big, very cheap house with a mysterious past and a desperate salesman? There's definitely something there. Some people would follow their common sense and walk away without looking back. Other people would ignore common sense for the sense of adventure and try to unravel the mystery, whatever the cost. And there are people who don't have any sense to follow... A nice, cheap house, on a budget, with just a little bit of haunting and macabre details? Nothing that can't be ignored.

Mestre do Universo dos Vermes

There was a gift box on the table. There shouldn't be a gift box on the table.

ANNA VESPER

Clara dá aulas de português para estrangeiros e faz magia desde pequena. Joana só sabe da primeira parte. Até aparecer para um café dizendo que visitou a escola onde a amiga trabalha, numa cidade que não aparece no mapa. A primeira pista está num material didático: alguém está ensinando pessoas comuns a encontrar lugares mágicos sem explicar o que vão descobrir. Os percursos levam a uma biblioteca fechada, documentos alterados e moradores que não querem ver suas casas transformadas em cenário de exercício. Com a confiança da amiga abalada, Clara precisa descobrir quem está distribuindo aquelas instruções e por quê. E explicar há quanto tempo vinha deixando Joana do lado de fora.

worrel

A photography student opens a metal box forgotten at the back of his grandfather's closet. Inside: old negatives, notebooks his grandfather never let anyone read, a sheet music dedicated to someone no one in the family knows, and a little red beanie that, after thirteen years stored away, is still warm. The grandfather can no longer travel. The answers stayed in the North, in a village that may not even exist anymore. So the grandson goes in his place, in the middle of the Círio de Nazaré, with a camera, a best friend who refuses to stay home, and the feeling that some photos hold more than they show. Twelve photos. Eleven empty places. And what was left out of the frame.

Sandra Longbottom

A collection of poems written by me. Poetry from random moments and intense feelings. Author's Note: Hi! These poems were written many years ago. It was a small but interesting experience. I hope you have a good read. Comment. I appreciate it. Kisses :D

jonasexistiu

For years, Lídia Sampaio considered the dogs of Jacarandás Street an assault on civilized coexistence. So when a morning dawns without a single bark, her first reaction is gratitude. The gratitude, however, does not last long. In Vila Olaria, animals begin to disappear, inexplicable marks appear on the walls, and certain houses begin to harbor spaces that should never exist. While the residents seek explanations reasonable enough to continue their routines, Lídia discovers that there are far worse inconveniences than a noisy neighborhood. Between supernatural horror, everyday absurdity, and the melancholy of small absences, the tale investigates what we have learned to ignore, especially when its warnings blend with the usual noises of life.