Barcelona Metropolis

• The Story

I’d like to share the story of Aunt Cristina’s death with you. Not exactly how she died, but how her sisters came to believe she had passed away, and how Aunt Cristina herself...

• The Story

When she gets home, it’s half past eight in the evening. She sets down the grocery bags – long handle adorned with Modernist iron filigree. Such porosity, such marvel, what a...

• The Story

Barely a year had passed since the Olympic Games and finding a job was already tough. I was discussing the matter with the girl behind me in the queue at the depressing...

• The Story

He wasn’t allowed salt, but he gave himself special dispensation when he was with his beloved fancy woman. Well, he did so every day, and Anselm was already long enough in the...

• The Story

I didn’t know that sometimes we forget about forgetting, that this memory that had robbed us of so much of our sleep, this possibility that planned a parallel and secret life,...

• The Story

She pedalled just as the traffic light was turning red, he took off too soon: the upshot was a traffic accident. His handlebars on her torso, her wheel on his tibia; the girl...

• The Story

Gosh, walking all the way up is tiring, isn’t it?

I can picture you coming here, to Montjuïc, to Miró’s mountain and the Font del Gat fountain and cruising, in broad daylight....

• The Story

Today the moon is winking at me and looks like a balloon dangling from the Arc de Triomf, making Avinguda Lluís Companys seem emptier and unreal. I quicken my...