Barcelona Metropolis

• The Story

She pedalled just as the traffic light was turning red, he took off too soon: the upshot was a traffic accident. His handlebars on her torso, her wheel on his tibia; the girl...

• The Story

Gosh, walking all the way up is tiring, isn’t it?

I can picture you coming here, to Montjuïc, to Miró’s mountain and the Font del Gat fountain and cruising, in broad daylight....

• The Story

Today the moon is winking at me and looks like a balloon dangling from the Arc de Triomf, making Avinguda Lluís Companys seem emptier and unreal. I quicken my...

• The Story

Remei and Maria were born two years apart, one in Gràcia, the other in Horta. Their paths would probably have run in parallel, without ever crossing, had Remei not...

• The Story

It was Cosme who told me the flat was a miracle. And that the price was unbelievable, just like the views, because it had a terrace where you could see both the sea and the mountain or a...

• The Story

They had the flat right above the grocery shop. The flat, which is one way of describing it: disarray turned into a dining room, a tiny kitchen, an even teensier bathroom and two...

• The Story

It all happened the week of the Mobile World Congress. Nora was cleaning room 606 when she saw the porcelain teapot on the desk, like a paperweight on a bunch of Chinese documents, or so...

• The Story

Gone with the wind. It was blowing fiercely there. It was a wind that didn’t come from any cardinal point, it fell perpendicularly from the sky and smashed you against the ground. On...