The Other Dimension

By Yolanda Ledesma

After a few years, Yolanda Ledesma returns with this innovative work, a mixture of imagination and suspense where emotions are the protagonists, traveling among astral dimensions in her literary style, Magical Essence.
The Other Dimension is a different genre of story, where imagination is projected in multiple dimensional situations in cosmic worlds where planets, solar systems, and beliefs are intertwined into perfect skeins with perspectives into visible and invisible worlds and movements in the various stories of this anthology.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Yolanda Ledesma
• Release date: Apr 25, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005915209

Book preview

The Other Dimension is a sequence of short stories that, as soon as you start reading them, transport you to an incredible world where the real and the unreal come together.

Its author, Yolanda Ledesma, is a beautiful woman born in Barranquilla, Colombia. Intelligent, educated, cultured, and full of sensitivity, she leaves in each of her pages all the talent she possesses in a range of emotions that shake us to the core.

Since her beginnings as a writer, Yolanda awakened among her readers a distinctly different fiber with her literary movement Esencia mágica (Magical Essence) with which she wrote the series María, la llave del triunfo (María, the Key to Success), that includes her works Mis amigos invisibles (My Invisible Friends), and María, entre el bien y el mal (María, Between Good and Evil). At that time, she wrote La Güija, el portal de la comunicación del demonio (The Ouija Board, the Devil’s Communications Portal).

But she also took us into the magical world of children’s fantasy with her bilingual series A Day in the Life of Maria, which includes two other works: Let’s Go to School and The Night of the Magic Pumpkins, both with her own illustrations (another of the author’s talents, painting). Multifaceted and multicultural, we have seen her being recognized in her country of residence, the United States, and also in Spain, Jordan, Colombia, Mexico, Dominican Republic, Dubai, and others, obtaining great and important literary awards.

This time, she takes us by the hand introducing us to The Other Dimension, where she weaves real stories that become unreal leaving us petrified and confused, since... if we understand if what is real is really real, is it?

Thank you, Yolanda for this parallel stroll into The Other Dimension.

Minerva Álvarez

Minita

A deep look

I was watching through the windows the sun’s rays forming foam on the rising waves, accompanied by the sounds of the sea, when the ship began to lurch with abrupt movements between cresting waves and abrupt falls. Feeling the impact on the floor of the boat, worried, I headed directly to the bow to get accurate information on the situation.

Indeed, something was happening out of the blue; a captain’s assistant with a megaphone in his hands led us to the main hall to explain the reason for parking us in the middle of the sea without having reached the port where the cruise ship was supposed to dock.

His words were terse, short, and precise. The reason for anchoring in the middle of the deep blue sea was the impossibility of docking in the port, because it lacked sufficient depth for an ocean liner of our size, and besides, it could hit the islets or reefs that were very close to the island. I took my hands to my temples, I was disappointed, in the distance I observed the coast, so close, and yet so far away at the same time, because we were still separated by a good stretch of sea.

After about two hours of uncertainty we were finally informed, both guests and crew, about the captain’s decision, and his solution for this inconvenience:

Passengers will disembark using the tender boats on a first-come, first-served basis from the main room.

The news was welcomed by all the travelers as we were all desperately eager to reach our final destination. We were transported to the island of Mykonos, and when I had finally descended from the ship my eyes were fascinated by the beauty of this small isle.

The streets were made of white alkaloid stones, giving the impression of not being from this century, but rather that we had traveled through a time machine.

All the island’s activity was centered near the shoreline. I noticed the small restaurants near the harbor, the hotels, a small library, an antique shop, a fire station, a gas station, and a tavern.

Excited as a child, I looked for my carry-on bag -where I have my camera- to take a picture of the moment of my arrival to keep it as a memory. I was excited, while I was about to open the zipper of the suitcase, I was surprised by a heavy burst of rain accompanied by hurricane winds that smacked my face and body, soaking my clothes and luggage.

The change of weather had happened quickly, and unexpectedly. Everything around me turned dark, occasionally illuminated by flashes of lightning charged with electricity, which exploded everywhere forming ghostly figures and frightening images.

Suddenly... the rain stopped, the wind disappeared, and sunlight returned to the island.

My optimism returned when the rain stopped; my clothes were wet and sticking on my body, I had to change immediately to avoid getting sick, but I did not want to worry about banal things, nothing could break the charm of the moment. I was determined to take my picture when I discovered the loss of my camera, my carry-on bag, and my other belongings.

What had happened to my things, had they been blown away by the wind? I thought.

I took a deep breath, this setback would not prevent me from feeling relaxed and able of having a good time in the island; I had to reverse the beginning of this trip with a positive attitude, anyone could suffer setbacks in an unknown land... I would buy a new camera, I would look for a restaurant, buy clothes, and then go to my lodging place, but I had not expected such a devastating surprise... The island looked like a battlefield, it was desolate, dead, without charm, its beauty gone, it was destroyed, and empty.

The wind was still blowing, cold and wet, chilling to the bone. It’s so hard to stay positive when everything goes against you!

Puzzled, I asked myself: How could I have survived the annihilating force displayed by this natural monster?... I kept thinking while my mind kept searching for logical answers to what happened.

It must have taken a tornado to wipe out most of the island that got in its path giving me a chance to save myself by not getting in its way. But... how had all my personal belongings disappeared?

I shook my head, grateful to be alive; it was not time to stop and think, it was time to survive.

Where could I find shelter to rest, eat, and take care of the rest of my physical needs?

The square was empty, there were no living being, plants, or animals, and the people had also disappeared, as if by magic.

I was still wandering around... wondering where my traveling companions could be?

Tired, exhausted, and worried, I decided to camp in the middle of a vacant lot, breathing heavily in the hope of finding any living being, when I saw a woman with wavy dark hair reaching her waist walking in the middle of this deserted place.

She was wearing a thin white transparent robe that revealed the curves of her body. She was barefoot, looked unkempt, and she was carrying my bag in one hand and my camera in the other.

I shouted desperately, trying to get the young woman’s attention, and it worked.

She turned to look at me; her gaze was deep, distant, expressionless, and her eyes showed a deep sadness.

I was moved, changed my attitude, and began to speak softly to her -trying to inspire confidence- but she ran away, without listening to me, avoiding any communication between us.

I was disappointed, standing there in the middle of nowhere, not knowing where to go, or with whom to communicate, when suddenly a boy dressed in the typical clothes of that island approached me offering his services as a tour guide.

I scratched my head, thinking about the strangeness of the situation... A child offering his services as if he were an older person?

Where are the adults in this town? I asked.

They are working on other things.

I accepted the little boy’s proposal because I had no other choice. I explained to the boy my situation and what my primary needs were... to find lodging, buy hygiene and personal items, and look for a place to eat. The boy listened attentively to my requests, he understood my language, which reassured me.

On the way we walked together through several places, all away from the main square. After eating and buying what I needed, I asked the boy about his life. His answer was precise: My name is Achilles, I am 11 years old, and I was born in this island.

At that moment the young girl who had stolen my belongings came to my mind, and I told Achilles what had happened. The boy smiled and told me about the young woman and her strange attitude: Her name is Circe, she is 19 years old and lives in the upper part of the island, where there are many windmills. She is not very sociable and does not like to interact with tourists.

After a while I arrived at the place that would be my home for a while, since the reason for my trip was to find a quiet place to get inspired and capture the muse that would allow me to finish the book that my editor was waiting for.

Four hours had passed...

I was alone, accompanied by a bottle of red wine, when the young woman with the sad eyes walked past the front of my cabin. I ran after her until I caught up with her. She recognized my face and, to my surprise, gave me a half smile.

Motivated by her attitude, I had the courage to offer her a drink. The surprises continued, she gladly accepted, and we then approached the shore of the beach with glasses full of wine, and we continued drinking until we looked at each other as if discovering each other for the first time…

My emotions were whirling dizzyingly in a mixture of passion and desire; blood rushed through my veins, rushing down my body until it ignited my senses; I looked into her eyes, I was on fire and took her in my arms to make her mine, she was cold, but her eyes pierced my body and my mind, leaving me breathless.

I kissed her passionately. I gently stripped her of her almost transparent white gown and discovered the splendor of her beauty.

We tied each other with kisses, passionate caresses and like a thirsty man I drank from the spring of her body, running through every space of her smooth and strong belly.

The night went on its course without minding us, now turned into lovers. Drinking from her body I felt intoxicated, and I let myself be carried away by my impulses, making love to her incessantly all night long, until I fell, exhausted but happy, fast asleep.

The next morning, I looked for my beautiful lover but there was no sign of her. Crazed, I went for a walk in the hope of seeing her, but disappointed, I returned to my cabin, still feeling her breath, her smell, her sex... Then I remembered my little friend, and I called him explaining what had happened the night before.

Calm down sir, Achilles told me. Write down the address where she lives, and if you don’t find her call me again so we can both look for her.

My young friend hung up and I went directly to the place indicated by the boy. I searched the whole area for a house with the address I had written down, but the place was clean, empty, and dry.

My inquiring eyes stopped interested on a sign, The Dreamer’s House.

How strange! I thought. This is the name of the place, but there is no house. Just...! Just a moment! It is a holy field, where people come to their final resting place, to live the eternal sleep...!

What did it all mean, what kind of game was Achilles playing?

I entered the place afraid to face an unknown truth that would change the course of my story, but there was the answer to my doubts and worries. I found a tombstone with the name Circe, I looked up in my cell phone the meaning of that name and it meant seductress.

I looked at the face engraved on the stone, there was no doubt, it was the face of my beloved. My eyes filled with tears, I did not understand what had happened, had our encounter not been real and everything had been a product of my fantasies?

My voice breaking up I called Achilles, but he did not answer my call. I remembered where he lived and knocked on the door of his house.

I asked an elderly lady about the boy. She made a puzzled gesture on her face, frowned, and said to me:

Sir, you must be confused, he died 20 years ago while trying to save a girl named Circe who was drowning, and in the struggle they both drowned.

I entered the small house without asking for permission trying to figure out what had happened. In the backyard I saw, tied to a tree, Achilles’ backpack, and inside it I found my camera and a roll of money that I had given the little boy for his services.

I felt my eyes heavy, as if in a deep sleep....

Wake up my love... I am by your side... soon we will be back home.

I heard a voice approaching me, and then I remembered the face and voice of the woman who was speaking. It was Marietta, my ex-girlfriend, standing next to me and I was on an emergency stretcher. I didn’t know how much time had passed, had my trip to Mykonos been a dream, or maybe a nightmare?

They managed to stabilize me and I was able to return to my apartment, next to my ex-girlfriend, who was always by my side and who affectionately whispered in my ear:

Love, we must give each other a new chance, because I have not stopped loving you, and I am convinced that neither have you. Sorry for spoiling your surprise, I loved your kind thought, I had never seen a robe so well made, its material is delicate, white, and very sexy, it looks like it was made by angelic hands.

The end

Following the killer’s footsteps

Chapter I

Wedding anniversary

It was a weekend, but not just any weekend, because my wife and I were celebrating our first wedding anniversary.

My beautiful wife, who had come into my world to give me happiness, after some horrific events that had changed my existence, leaving me submerged in a deep void where only feelings of pain, rage, and frustration dwelled.

I wanted to be by her side at this moment to embrace my heroine who had managed, in such a short time, to change my gray moments into a new dawn full of great expectations.

She had become my spring of crystal-clear water in the midst of a desert, delicate as rose petals. In a subtle and sensitive way, she had transformed my anger and tantrums into a romantic trance by means of affectionate kisses, caresses, cuddles, and limitless devotion when we made love, transporting along my senses to fully fulfill my needs.

I was sitting there, listening to my chief during his usual Friday afternoon talk at police headquarters where we received updates on the cases conducted by each of the detectives. These meetings were mandatory, especially for me, because I had personal problems with the daughter of the chief of police.

My career as a police officer had been successful; I had caught many criminals, helping to cleanse the city of these elements while also helping to shed light on complex cases. It had been a clean professional career dedicated to law enforcement with many recognitions along the way, and so I was feeling proud of my efforts because this profession is full of hardships, and one can feel not well regarded. While people are having fun we are at work to provide security to the citizenry, but this takes a toll on our personal lives as we often have to put our families on the back burner, often missing important celebrations. Many of us are divorced, or live in dysfunctional marriages, and my story is no different from that of others. This is the reason why I feel guilty for what happened to my family; I was always working and not with my family when I was off, because I had other commitments, and I will not make the same mistakes now. This time I want to rectify my past mistakes, I will build a real home with my wife, love her, respect her, and have children with her.

Suddenly, I felt a lump in my throat because the greatest punishment for my negligence and irresponsibility were my memories, which would come to mind at any moment to torture me.

The conversation was lively... In the precinct everyone was talking, trying to impress the chief, waiting for his congratulations for their progress and achievements. It was a free for all as everyone was trying to show off their investigative skills with many officers wanting to grab the chief’s attention to