... Yes, now he didn't think about anything, didn't remember anything, didn't imagine anything. Almost. Only one word floated in the calm sea of his consciousness, half-buried like a corpse. Assumption. An unrelated concept that persisted, though, to exist, self-existent, voluntary, within him. He turned a corner. He bought a cheese pie and continued. Assumption. The word persisted threateningly. It took the form of an endless perspective. "Assumption of responsibilities," he whispered. The perspective became a corridor. "Assumption of money." The corridor ended in a door. "Assumption of Christ." The door opened. It led to the boundless blue space. Or rather not. His step faltered. He almost stopped. "The assumption of Maria," he said, while he wanted to say: "The assumption of Christ." Trembling, he closed his eyelids for a moment only and then he saw her. Pale and transparent. She was sleeping...

The novel and the short stories refer to more or less unusual situations. Stories that examine the "other side" of things, the dark and strange perhaps but existing and present. They explore cases that go beyond in one way or another the current logic. With a realistic writing, undermined by the unexpected, the author of "The Manuscripts of Manuel Salinas" subtly introduces us to the threatening atmosphere of his worlds.