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Brito Peret

Short Stories by S5

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Brito Peret

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Foreword

hroughout this year we have been reading multiple literary texts

both in our Language and Literature lessons with Patricia

Chujman and in our tutorial lessons with Cecilia Lasa. Among

those texts, we have analysed many amazing short stories, trying to

understand them more deeply. This analysis has inspired us to write

some of our own short stories.

In our tutorial meetings, we worked together, really hard, to achieve this.

In each lesson we would pick a title from our Literature booklet and

brainstorm ideas for a new story. The texts read in class worked as an

insightful guide for us. We carefully thought of the vocabulary we would

use, the sequence in which events would unfold, how to construct

characters... We were able to write five short stories creating an

atmosphere of fear and tension in each one of them.

We discovered how to make each story unique, mysterious and catchy

for the audience. We paid attention to every word chosen, that was why

we worked with online dictionaries and thesauruses. We thought of

which literary device would help us construct an idea more accurately.

Every sentence counted. In some cases, we needed to retrieve some

historical information, so we surfed the net for that or even checked our

History notes. We do hope you enjoy reading all of them as we enjoyed

writing them.

María Brito Peret (also in charge of image design)

Agustina Buljevich

Antonia Flores Pirán

Belén Gay

Juan Cruz Gomez Roca (also in charge of image design)

Belén Irazusta

Virginia Loza

Delfina Subirá

Milagros Zubizarreta

Ciudad Autónoma de Buenos Aires, October 15th

T

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DDoouubbllee

IIddeennttiittyy

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Gómez Roca

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he did not love anyone, but Rufus. Her true teenage love. Her rich

and prejudiced family had forced her to commit to Henry, a man

belonging to the high society of London.

However, one cannot forget one’s true love that easily. That is why her

life was a complete disaster, a miserable and unhappy disaster.

**********************************************************************************

Katherine, as everyone called her, lived with Henry and her two children

in an enormous house. Still, what she liked the most about her life was

the chapel at the very back of her place.

Henry had visited the chapel only once: his wedding day. Katherine had

been a regular visitor since that day, the day she met Father Rufus. The

day she resumed her feelings for her teenage love.

Such frequency aroused suspicion in Henry. “Does she believe in God

now, more than she did five years ago?” What can be so inviting in that

old ruined chapel? Why does that gloomy atmosphere captivate her?”

One evening, while Henry was hunting in the woods, Katherine went to

the chapel as she used to do every day. But that day, she and her lover

decided to go to the same spot as her husband had chosen. Little did

they know that Father Rufus was going to find his death.

Less than a mile away, Henry was prevented from focusing on his prey

because he saw her wife’s favourite white dress vanishing in the air. He

saw Katherine. He changed his prey, now his eyes were on his wife, but

for his surprise she was not alone. A figure that was familiar and

unfamiliar at the same time made up the features of the male face he

had seen on his wedding day. Henry remembered he was still hunting. A

shot gun was heard.

**********************************************************************************

That day was not the saddest day in Katherine’s life, but the most

shocking one. While she was crying over the spotless face of Father

Rufus, a similar face but with a scar on the left eyebrow made its slow

entrance into to mourning room. That was when she remembered. Her

memories finally hit her: in her childhood she used to run hand in hand

S

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with the twin that had the scar on his face -her real true love- while the

other one looked at them with envy.

Some words on the short story…

This short story deals with the “double”, which is an uncanny figure: the

true love is both familiar and unfamiliar. The familiar element is seen

through a girl in love with a man that she is supposed to know. The

unfamiliar aspect is present because she does not recognise her real

love up until he appears once the one she thinks she has loved dies.

The protagonist is dealing with the tragedy of having been in love with

the twin of her past boyfriend. This past boyfriend is supposed to be the

one that dies at the end of the story, but he is not. Katherine has been

dating both a familiar and unfamiliar person.

Virginia Loza

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TThhee LLiiee

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Brito Peret

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r Nicholas, then, do you consider yourself guilty or not?

-Not guilty.

Those were the last words Mr Park read on the report written on January

2nd in the case for the murder of Susan Ford and Jack Nicholas. He had

received this report a month ago and he himself couldn't determine yet

whether Nicholas Junior was guilty or not for the murder of his own

parents. This uncertainty made him have nightmares. As a specialist in

human psychologist, he had been asked to study the truth in the

defendant's testimony. This task, however, seemed to be beyond his

comprehension.

The day of the interview with Mr Nicholas finally arrived. Twenty years of

experience did not prevent his hands from sweating. The bell rang. He

was there. No sooner had his newly-arrived patient sat down than,

unhesitant, he admitted to his crime. The next hour was completely

devoted to his retelling how the bloody events unfolded the night when

he killed his mother and father. An hour later, with the same sense of

conviction and confidence with which he had arrived, Mr Nicholas left the

room.

When he was left alone, Mr Park started to read his notes. He had lied in

court: he had murdered his own parents. No sign of regret. Long silence.

Complicated childhood. His mother broke his crayon. Lack of love and

care. More attention needed. Lack of education and family support.

Alcoholic mother, hit him and almost killed him once. Long silence.

Nervous and drug addict father. No money in the family. He had to work

at an early age. Low self esteem. His mother broke his crayon. Long

silence. His mother broke his crayon.

Mr Park couldn't stop thinking about the crayons. He decided to look

deeper into this, to explore such repetitive experience. So he took his old

notes on Freud to analyse the case. When he opened the notebook, he

caught a glimpse of a section on castration. He felt dizzy. He felt sick. Mr

Parker saw everything. Nicholas had been mentally abused; the mother

had broken the bond with his father, who had not contributed to making

any healing possible. Nicholas had lost every sense of identification.

That is why he could not carry out a free adult life. He was not to blame.

His own parents were responsible for their own murder. And this was the

truest lie ever.

-M

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Some words on the short story…

I truly liked this short story. I liked that we used the image of the crayons

that we read in “The Enemy”. In this text by V. S. Naipaul, we analysed

how the crayons served as a metaphor for masculinity.

I also found it interesting that we wrote a sequence of sentences that did

not seem to have any connection with each other. The rationale behind

this technique was to recover the stream of consciousness Mr Nicholas

experienced when listened to by Mr Park. We can tell that the

psychiatrist is revising his notes.

Furthermore, at the end of the story we used a powerful oxymoron. Mr

Nicholas’s mother had severed her child's bond with his father. And his

father did not contribute to his emotional recovery. They had raised a

child who grew up without knowing how to create any affective bond.

That is why he resented his parents. So, in conclusion, the oxymoron

reveals that the parents are responsible for having brought up Mr

Nicholas the way they have and have caused, therefore, their own

death.

Milagros Zubizarreta

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EEvviiddeennccee

aatt LLaasstt

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Brito Peret

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mbitious: That is the word that best describes Nick and Josh. But

facts have shown that their only true characteristic is stupidity.

Because ambition here is mine.

Ten years ago the case of “WALTS” fraud was brought to me. Two

friends in charge of the firm separated from each other on account of

one of the most typical capital sins: greed. Josh was accused of

committing fraud: head of the accountancy department of the company,

he was presumed responsible for the missing amount of $100 million.

When he came to my office, his apple-polishing words were “You are the

best lawyer in the city and that is why you are going to get me out of this

one”. He seemed to have forgotten his own words.

Two years after that event, there was evidence at last to blame Josh. He

was condemned to paying the double of the money that he had been

accused of stealing. But Josh took it to the next level. He played against

me. He decided to press charges against me for malpractice. He started

libeling against me in every chance he had: TV programmes, radios,

newspapers, well-known buffets and magazines. He attempted to shatter

my reputation and leave me bankrupt. But he did not remember that he

had hired the “best lawyer in the city”. On November 15th, in a court

room I was pronounced not guilty and Josh and Nick were condemned

to twenty years of prison because of fraud. Never trust an apple polisher:

when I saw him entering my office I knew that he intended to trick me.

Josh and his friend had never fallen apart. On the contrary, they had

joined forces to defeat me and took my money away from me. They

acted together all the time. And not even together did they suspect that

the trickers were going to be tricked. Evidence at last.

Some words on the short story…

Through this short story, we intended to show that power is relative. We

are taught that stability in life is one of its major assets. Hence, a

struggle is unleashed where the love for power is much stronger than the

power of love. The endless quest for power blinds us and does not let us

measure the consequences of our acts. So much so, that sometimes we

cannot see when it is about to strike back.

Delfina Subirá

A

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DDeecceeppttiioonn.

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Gomez Roca

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arcus was in front of the Wallmart shelf grabbing the most

prestigious salmon in all the supermarket. As he was putting it

in the trolley, some memories started to haunt him: only two

weeks ago he was undergoing the same situation but along the next

corridor, the one with the lowest prices.

On October the 9th a letter unexpectedly arrived. He turned on the radio

with Louis Armstrong’s “What a wonderful world” as background music.

The first lines of the letters informed him that his shares in the stock

market had increased abruptly. USA couldn’t be a more wonderful world.

His first incursion in the stock market had been fed by his cousin in a

family event. “If you want to succeed in life, you have to engage in

bootlegging or to be a great investor”. He pondered that bootlegging was

not an option because it would be too risky. However, the second option

was definitely a way out of his mediocre and miserable life. How naive to

think in this way in the 1920s.

That night when he returned home from the supermarket, he decided not

to eat that salmon he had bought. He would do it the following night after

the long day of work that was in the store for him. But he did not know

that the moment would never arrive.

When he opened his eyes next morning reality hit him in the face. All the

work he had done throughout his years were lost only in two damned

weeks of ambition. “Wall Street Crush” were the only words he read all

over the newspaper. Slowly, at night, he put a bit of well done salmon in

his mouth but it did not taste as he had always dreamed of. That was the

flavour of deception.

Some words on the short story…

1929 was a testing year for the USA, mostly for the magical and

crowded city of New York, The city where dreams of becoming

prosperous were believed to be attainable.

In this story the topics of disappointments and unfulfilled dreams have

been deeply worked on by projecting the story of a man that seems to be

in the peak of the mountain while he does not see he will fall.

Belén Irazusta

M

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TThhee SSeeccrreett

MMeeeettiinngg

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Gomez Roca

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t is true… April is the cruelest month”. Who would have thought

that her ferric disposition would break at such steely winds, at

such penetrating drizzle...

Inside, the fire was mounting with sparks. That was not enough, though,

to warm up the cottage nor her frozen soul. Bariloche had not welcomed

her, as if it had always known that she was an unbendable northerner.

Leopold, she thought, would bring some vintage wine from a regional

wine cellar. But it was her anger that would make her insensitive to the

cold weather. Insensitive.

“Have you been drinking again? Have you been drinking behind my

back?”

She was upset at him as soon as he entered through the wooden door

and could smell his movements. Not only was he late but he also walked

in the cottage in his muddy leather boots. Through his thick voice he

expelled a sickening breath. This could not break her.

“We've got to talk”, she said bluntly.

He took off his khaki jacket and his dark green cap, displaying his snowy

hair. He approached the bar table and poured himself some scotch.

“Who have you shared the wine with? I thought you were supposed to

share it with me, here in the place colder than my isles”.

“I don't want to talk right now”, he answered. Instead, he leaned his head

to kiss her, but she flinched.

“They are already suspecting us”.

“What do you mean? Business or pleasure?”

“You know what I am talking about”.

“Well, you know what they say… you can bend iron but you cannot

break it. You should know this”.

“Don’t push it. I’m warning you. You have been spying on me. I know

you sent your men. I saw them”.

She took some scotch for herself. She let it fall and it spilt. A pungent

odour invaded the place.

“Margaret, will you get away with murder, again?”.

“Mr Galtieri. I always get away with murder”.

“I

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Some words on the short story…

This story is about an imaginary secret love that existed between two

political leaders of different countries. The relationship between them

specularly reflects the relationship between their respective countries.

Politics and love have more in common than is thought.

What I like about this story is the sense of tension that it creates, which

makes the reader mistake information: while readers think this is simple

a love story expressed in a scene of jealousy, it turns out to be an

argument between two political figures about waging war. In order to

construct these characters we recollected some information about

Margaret Thatcher and Leopoldo Galtieri. The former is said to have

been the “Iron Lady”; and the latter, rumor has it, is said to have agreed

to war while being drunk.

Finally, through the expression “get away with murder” we have worked

both at a literal and figurative level. On the one hand, that phrase means

“to perform a wrong deed and to succeed in escaping punishment”. On

the other hand, it refers to the actual act of murdering without receiving

punishment.

Juan Cruz Gomez Roca