Writer • Photographer
Alberto Yáñez is a writer of fantasies, poetry, and essays on justice, agency and art, pop culture, and the absurdity of life. With the instincts of a natural editor, he’s also a photographer with a storyteller’s approach to taking pictures.
Every so often, a wonder gets worked.
One of the things that has always stuck with me from my early days in college was a discussion amongst my Jewish friends about what to do if (when) the wolves came. Do you have friends you could hide your … Continue reading
I have no room for conciliation. I have no use for a false unity whose only purpose is to co-opt my consent to oppress me. I have no patience for calls to work together with those who seek to undermine … Continue reading
I fell asleep on the sofa and woke up at half-past three in the morning. I don’t remember dreaming. I take my final on Tuesday, official grades post on Wednesday, and my pinning ceremony is on Saturday. I graduate, and … Continue reading
It strikes me that sometimes my imagination is too small. When I started on this path, I did not begin to have anything beyond the vaguest outlines of how the choice to become a nurse would change me. Yes, yes, … Continue reading
Miss Lavinia Parrish was a young woman when she chose to apprentice herself to Mr Harid de Borba, a coffinmaker of great skill but odd repute. Though the two were acquainted prior to her request, Miss Parrish had not laid bare her heart to her new master, nor had she otherwise explained her particular reasons for undertaking a trade.
It took four of them to drive the rig, plus Bobo to steer.
Petey handled the clutch, Lulu was on brakes and gas, Jojo took care of shifting gears, and Alice ran relief for the other three and mostly told them what to do. Bobo steered, of course, since he had enough upper-body strength to turn the wheel, and with the booster seat could see over the dash. He was a chimp, but the rest of the crew tried not to hold it against him.