{"id":1816,"date":"2021-05-25T08:00:35","date_gmt":"2021-05-25T06:00:35","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/wp.unil.ch\/musemagazine\/?p=1816"},"modified":"2021-05-21T12:07:40","modified_gmt":"2021-05-21T10:07:40","slug":"el-diablo","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/wp.unil.ch\/musemagazine\/2021\/05\/el-diablo\/","title":{"rendered":"El Diablo"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><span style=\"color: #0099cc;font-size: small\"><strong>Image<\/strong>: <a style=\"color: #0099cc\" href=\"https:\/\/www.flickr.com\/photos\/31018257@N00\/10829310643\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\" data-v-e1c1f65a=\"\">&#8220;Abandoned Storehouses&#8221;<\/a>\u00a0by\u00a0<a style=\"color: #0099cc\" href=\"https:\/\/www.flickr.com\/photos\/31018257@N00\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\" data-v-e1c1f65a=\"\">Diego3336<\/a>\u00a0is licensed under\u00a0<a class=\"photo_license\" style=\"color: #0099cc\" href=\"https:\/\/creativecommons.org\/licenses\/by\/2.0\/?ref=ccsearch&amp;atype=rich\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\" data-v-e1c1f65a=\"\">CC BY 2.0<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: right\"><strong>Author<\/strong>: Katharina Schwarck<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><b><i>This piece of writing was born in a <\/i><\/b><b>Creative Writing Club<\/b><b><i> session, with the prompt \u201cMixing Worlds and Characters\u201d<\/i><\/b><b>.<\/b><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400\">Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away, lived a mean little creature, tall like three stacked apples, hair and cheeks the colour of a rotten cherry. No one had been able to defeat the little devil, for it had magic powers. One weakness, though, it had. It sang. It sang about its victories and sang about its plans. One day, as the goblin was strutting in the forest, it chanted<\/span><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 80px\"><span style=\"font-weight: 400\">The miller\u2019s daughter she was fair.<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 80px\"><span style=\"font-weight: 400\">Found her crying in a prayer.<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 80px\"><span style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u201cI\u2019ll give you anything\u201d, she\u2019d say,<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 80px\"><span style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u201cIf you make to gold my hay\u201d.<\/span><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400\">The miller\u2019s daughter had married the king, and the goblin had been promised the princess\u2019s first-born, which was expected in a year. This day, the creature was strolling through the grass, but little did it know, the fairies had set a trap. One safe step, a second, a third, and the little foot stumbled over a root. The creature fell and fell down the hill. It rolled and rolled, and cursed, and cursed. Underneath the hill, there was a pond. As it approached the bottom of the hill, it braced itself for the fall into the shallow water. The fall hurt much more. It slowly stretched its sore body and opened its eyes. It lengthened its arms and discovered two iron bars on both sides of its body. It lifted its head. The iron path had no visible end. The little devil turned onto its belly and found what had hurt its body were pieces of wood, which connected the iron bars, and black stones, that filled the gaps between the wood shafts. The creature pushed itself onto its knees. Its mouth tasted dust. There, it heard an ear-splitting noise, more powerful than it had ever heard. Lifting its head, it saw: the noise had come from an unknown being. A gigantic iron monster, that was spitting smoke from its head and which was speeding towards the creature like a flash. The goblin rolled itself over hectically, and saw the long, dark beast thundering by on its magic wheels. The creature scarcely admitted to fear, and it was only when someone lifted it up by its hood that it started screaming. It screamed and fought and bit and struck. It looked up and facing it was a tall man, fully clothed in black, with a black hat, and a black mask. His cape blew gently above the dust, and his right hand held a rapier. He smelled of dust, of sweat, and smoke. The man said calmly: \u201cEntonces, eres t\u00fa el diablo\u201d.<\/span><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400\">We do not know what happened after this, but people say the next day the goblin came to the princess\u2019s door with a gift and promised to never show itself again.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400\">And sometimes, if you pay attention, you can walk along the forest, and still hear the creature sing<\/span><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 80px\"><span style=\"font-weight: 400\">The big man said I did harm<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 80px\"><span style=\"font-weight: 400\">I laughed and spat, he rose his arm<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 80px\"><span style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u201cYou must be punished, you are foul\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 80px\"><span style=\"font-weight: 400\">Struck his blade across my jowl<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 80px\"><span style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u201cQuit your evil, you disgrace\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 80px\"><span style=\"font-weight: 400\">Struck a Z across my face<\/span><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 80px\"><span style=\"font-weight: 400\">For life, I\u2019m marked with shame<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 80px\"><span style=\"font-weight: 400\">Three scars, from his first name<\/span><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Image: &#8220;Abandoned Storehouses&#8221;\u00a0by\u00a0Diego3336\u00a0is licensed under\u00a0CC BY 2.0 &nbsp; Author: Katharina Schwarck &nbsp; This piece of writing was born in a Creative Writing Club session, with the prompt \u201cMixing Worlds and Characters\u201d. &nbsp; Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away, lived a mean little creature, tall like three stacked apples, hair and cheeks [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1002190,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_seopress_robots_primary_cat":"","_seopress_titles_title":"","_seopress_titles_desc":"","_seopress_robots_index":"","footnotes":"","_links_to":"","_links_to_target":""},"categories":[65],"tags":[37],"class_list":{"0":"post-1816","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","6":"category-2021-spring","7":"tag-prose"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp.unil.ch\/musemagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1816","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp.unil.ch\/musemagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp.unil.ch\/musemagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp.unil.ch\/musemagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1002190"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp.unil.ch\/musemagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1816"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/wp.unil.ch\/musemagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1816\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp.unil.ch\/musemagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1816"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp.unil.ch\/musemagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1816"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp.unil.ch\/musemagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1816"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}