Jose Duron
Stories (12/0)
Hawaiian, Bermudas, and Sandals.
I tap my foot against the polished floor of the airport. The reflection of people passing by, the sound of wheels kissing the ceramic, the chatter of strangers, and the smell of coffee all harmonize in systemic chaos only enjoyable in a place such as an airport.
By Jose Duron3 years ago in Humans
Cabin Stories
You might think that a cabin on top of the Alpes would have everything a person needs to have an easy-going life. But what if I tell you that despite the luxuries--redwood, marble, and a collection of first edition hardcover books--it's a dull place for someone who grew up with technology all around him. And yes, I'm talking about me. I sigh. Even if we had internet, with no electronics, it's obsolete to even think about it.
By Jose Duron3 years ago in Families
MAGA
Hi, Mr. Trump, My name is the name of a thousand voices that weren't heard when you became the president of the United States of America. There are a thousand questions I want to ask. Not to worry, they aren't as much about politics as they are about principles of business. Perhaps that's my entrepreneurial side wanting to come out and learn from a wealthy man as yourself. First question I want to ask what is the most valuable lesson your father taught you? Mine taught me to work hard and fight for my dreams, even if he himself had to sacrifice his to give me mine. He's now on the other side of the border, but that's none of your concern, is it?
By Jose Duron3 years ago in The Swamp
Dirt Slopes
I was ten years old and the bracing sun of Central American summer was at its highest point. I don't remember much of how that day started. I probably woke up to the loud beat of reggeaton at the far distance, or ambulant merchants selling whole foods, or perhaps at the screams of my aunts and uncles arguing over who was going to do what that day. Whatever the reason for me to be awake was, it was there.
By Jose Duron3 years ago in Humans
Survival of The Smoothest
I walk into the first bar to my right. It’s packed, but I make my way towards the place to which my body guides me with a mind of its own. I know that at the end of this mob that parts like the Red Sea with every step I take, there’s a beautiful woman who wants to get seduced. A woman who desires sex as much and even more than a man does. And I’m her man tonight. I get to the bartender and nod at him. Without saying a word, he prepares my drink and slides it down the bar. I gulp the shot down. I know she is there. I know she’s staring. I can feel it on my temple. I don’t give her my attention that easily. For one, once they get it, they feel they have accomplished what they wanted. For two, if you give it to her too easily, they will perceive you as weak.
By Jose Duron3 years ago in Filthy
A Fools Prayer
Dear God, it's nice talking to you again. I know, it's been a while since we sat down to have a conversation. As one-sided as it can be, I enjoy it... most of the time. Especially when I'm not cussing you out or challenging you to give me a break. Or when I guilt trip you for not giving me enough and putting me through such a predicament since day one. Jeez, it's really been a while huh? Hey, quick question, what type of drugs were You in when You made us?
By Jose Duron3 years ago in Humans
Survival of the Smoothest
The bed squeaks are drowned by the moans and hisses of a passionate night. What made us human stayed out of the room as we let our most primate instincts take over us. We came into the room ripping our clothes off and catching our breaths as we clumsily made our way to the bed. And it was in this moment, this crucial moment to my performance, in which I decided to pull away and apply the brakes. She seemed confused and crazed altogether. She lunged for more. I was the fire, and she was the moth.
By Jose Duron3 years ago in Filthy