Mexican Spanish Stories
Bajo la ceniza
Under the Ash
The one station that should be screaming shows perfect calm.
Volcanologist Valeria Ochoa finds out why: someone has cut the cable on the Volcán de Fuego de Colima and is feeding the observatory fake data. The lava dome is about to collapse, a luxury hotel is about to open at the foot of the volcano with forty children dancing on its stage, and the official who signed its permits has stolen her password to make her look guilty. The only person who believes her is a stubborn beekeeper whose bees refuse to leave the hive.
- Languages
- Spanish & English
- Reading level
- B1-B2
- Length
- 12 chapters
Publication in preparation. Store link coming when available.
A short sample from the opening
Capítulo 1: El volcán respira
Chapter 1: The Volcano Breathes
A las cuatro y doce de la madrugada, la línea verde en la pantalla dejó de ser una línea. Valeria Ochoa dejó el café sobre el escritorio y se inclinó hacia el monitor. En el Observatorio Vulcanológico de la Universidad de Colima no había nadie más: solo ella, el zumbido de las computadoras y, detrás de la ventana, la silueta negra del Volcán de Fuego contra un cielo sin luna. La línea temblaba. No mucho. Lo suficiente.
At twelve minutes past four in the morning, the green line on the screen stopped being a line. Valeria Ochoa set her coffee down on the desk and leaned toward the monitor. There was nobody else in the Volcano Observatory of the University of Colima: only her, the hum of the computers and, beyond the window, the black silhouette of the Volcán de Fuego against a moonless sky. The line was trembling. Not much. Just enough.
Era tremor, el pulso lento que sube desde las entrañas de la montaña cuando el magma se mueve. Valeria lo había visto cientos de veces. Abrió las gráficas de las otras estaciones: Soma, Montegrande, El Playón. Todas mostraban lo mismo. Todas menos una. La estación Cordobán, en la ladera sur, la más cercana al cráter, marcaba una calma perfecta. Demasiado perfecta. Una línea plana, limpia, como si allá arriba el volcán estuviera dormido.
It was tremor, the slow pulse that rises from deep inside the mountain when magma moves. Valeria had seen it hundreds of times. She opened the graphs from the other stations: Soma, Montegrande, El Playón. They all showed the same thing. All except one. The Cordobán station, on the southern slope, the closest to the crater, showed perfect calm. Too perfect. A flat line, clean, as if up there the volcano were asleep.
This is a short excerpt. The full novella has 12 chapters.
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