Santiago en 100 palabras is a short story contest in Chile. Every year thousands of people submit stories about life in the city, with a limit of 100 words. The best stories get illustrated and displayed on the walls of metro stations. It’s amazing to read and see what the 100 word limit generates.

5 years ago, just after moving to Mexico, feeling a little nostalgic maybe, I started submitting my own stories. I vowed to write and submit the maximum allowed every year. So far, I’ve delivered! At least 5 stories every year.

While the exercise continues, I decided to push my self a little and start writing more in public. From now on, ideally every week or two, I’ll post something here. Sometimes in English, a veces en español, hopelijk in Nederlands.

Having to write those short stories ignites something in my mind I want to enjoy more often. My physics high school teacher would always say “your brain is a muscle, you have to exercise it”. Thus, here I am.

I’ve always struggled to convey my ideas. Maybe this exercise helps me verbalize them better and become more intentional and purposeful.

It will also serve as a portal in time to my own thoughts and soul.

For this first “episode”, I’ll share one of the stories I wrote for Santiago en 100 Palabras. ¡En español!


En el súper de mi casa piensan que soy un ladrón. Ya van 3 veces seguidas que a los pocos segundos de entrar alguien habla por los micrófonos pidiendo iniciar grabaciones en tales o cuales zonas y alertando al público por la seguridad.

Siempre hay un guardia que habla por radio mirándome fijamente a los ojos. ¿Quizás es por la vez que entré con mochila? ¿O la vez que se me olvidó la billetera y tuve que dejar las cosas medio escondidas para pagar después?

Hoy no escuché las alertas, ¿quizás se dieron cuenta que sospecho de ellos?

See you next time, in which I’ll express some thoughts about time and measures of value. Or some quick note about random things…