Brotherhood of Evil Writers B.E.W is an anonymous collective of American authors brought together for this collection of stories and inspired by illustrations. We gave each of them a selection of pictures with just one request: the stories must contain the word “seed” or “seeds.”
And you didn’t notice anything? Really? Can’t you see that every time she hugs you, it’s as if she weren’t holding anything? You’re already gone, man, even if you are still there, fat as usual. She holds you but her thoughts are elsewhere.
Look, can you feel it now, that strange sensation when you touch her? Can you feel that emptiness, that silence? Good, now you’ve got it. It’s the seed of doubt.
Once, our school teacher told us that words are like seeds that blow in the wind, so we should be careful at what we say. Because in every word there could be a seed that would sprout. Good plants, she said, grow from good words. And bad plants grow from bad words.
It was such an interesting botanical lesson. After that I started sowing my bad plants. Years later a classmate of mine committed suicide because the guy she liked thought she was ugly. It wasn’t true. But I liked him too.
So my words had sprouted.
When she hanged herself he consoled me because I was her best friend.
He was great in bed.
At a certain point of my life I no longer thought I had a future. Everything I loved, everything I knew, had disappeared. I tried to imagine my future, but I couldn’t. Maybe I didn’t try hard enough, who knows. My mother had left me some seeds so when spring came I planted them.
But nothing grew.
Then one morning I simply woke up and went out. When I came back I had a dog. I had never had a dog. I decided that I’d call it Tomorrow.
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