Destiny Game

Destiny Game

da Achim Amme
11.04.2015
I remember the day as though it were yesterday. It was summer and I was working as a young temporary employee in a clothing store. Suddenly he was standing in front of the large front window looking at me. I knew it at once: “That's him!”
I blew him a kiss and ...
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Where the World Comes Into Being

Where the World Comes Into Being

da Mariasole Ariot
11.04.2015
Where are we going?
We are going where men disappear.
And where do men disappear, Mama?
Men disappear in the mountains, where time stands still.
And where is time, Mama?

Time is in the eyes of those who have lost it.

In ...
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Me and Marie

Me and Marie

da Lucy Bauer
24.02.2020
It was the first time I had exposed the new me in public and it was the comfort of strangers I was seeking. At the spa hotel where I was treating myself to a short winter break, nobody knew me, so nobody could compare the new me to the former me. The people here would ...
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The Masterpiece

The Masterpiece

da Lucy Bauer
27.02.2019
It wasn‘t that Jake despised his customers‘ tastes. On the contrary, he was well aware that if it weren‘t for the fact that many people’s notion of the ideal picture to hang on their wall was an exact copy of a famous work of art, he would be out on the street scraping ...
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The Other Side

The Other Side

da Lucy Bauer
20.02.2018
Strange places, old hotels. People flowing in and out of doors with numbers and doors without, passing through corridors leading who knows where. Things changing over time, yet staying the same. Some rooms open to all, some closed to prying eyes. Lines that should ...
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Uncle Jan`s Soup

Uncle Jan`s Soup

da Lucy Bauer
16.02.2017
Uncle Jan wasn`t an uncle in the conventional sense of the word. He was one of my father`s employees, a Pole who had washed up in Britain with the wave of immigrants rolling back and forth after the fall of communism in the years when Poland was preparing to join the ...
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Ballerina

Ballerina

da Lucy Bauer
05.04.2016
Alf spostò di lato la tenda di pizzo e guardò la strada lucida di pioggia. Cathy Brown, la vicina del 12, camminava in fretta, china sotto l'ombrello. Esitò un istante passando davanti alla finestra di Alf, che alzò una mano per salutarla. Ma Cathy, impegnata ad ...
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The Little Ballerina

The Little Ballerina

da Lucy Bauer
05.04.2016
Alf slid the lace curtain aside and peered out at the rain-soaked street. Cathy Brown from number 12 came hurrying along, huddled under her umbrella. She hesitated as she drew level with Alf’s window and he raised his hand in greeting. But Cathy, intent on negotiating ...
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Manhattan Transfer

Manhattan Transfer

da Lucy Bauer
20.12.2013
Ellis Island, 23rd July 1923

Dear Agnes
We have arrived. This is not where we’ll be staying, mind. It’s a wee island they bring you to first and the doctor checks you to see you’re not ailing. They’re fussy who they let go to New York. It must be a ...
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Waves

Waves

da Lucy Bauer
15.09.2011
I wouldn’t normally have an ice cream but the raspberry ripple at the wee cafe down at the harbour is so tempting. I like the girl that serves there, too. You’d expect somebody that gorgeous to be really stuck-up but she’s nice. I can’t say her name and she can’t ...
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Paradise

Paradise

da Britta Bendixen
04.05.2015
“Name? Age? Nationality?”
“Frank Fischer. 54 years old. Germany.”
“Cause of death?”
“I … uh, well, heart attack.”
“Here.” The Welcoming Angel hands him a name card with a safety pin and Frank tries to pin it on his jacket.
“Is this going ...
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across

across

da Silvia Berger
16.02.2017
Since the word hit me, at night the dead stand at my doorstep and wave to me. Some of them are grinning mischievously. Like Great Aunt Frieda, whose rather pursed lips remain in my memory. She was worried about her carpets when we kids came to visit. Before we could ...
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Our Café

Our Café

da Martina Berscheid
16.02.2017
The scent of my childhood lingered in the air: coffee, butter crumbs and cinnamon. How I once sat at the round table next to the rubber tree. I miss the clatter of the plates, the rustling of the newspapers, the murmur of voices and laughter. Silence had settled down ...
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Endless strawberries

Endless strawberries

da Elisabetta Bortolotti
05.04.2016
Silvia is seated on the settle, watching the rain outside the window. She is lost in thought, distant. Since her return she has been trying in every way possible to tell her mother the story she doesn’t want to hear. Rosa is pottering about the fireplace, stoking the ...
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The Woman with the Suitcase

The Woman with the Suitcase

da Elisabetta Bortolotti
12.04.2015
THREE ACTS

Overrating

Friday night, rain all the way up to Merrion Street.
Look right, look left. I look to the right, following the instructions exactly, and just an instant before stepping into the street, I ...
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The Leaf

The Leaf

da Susanne Brandt
12.04.2015
I'll be back the day after tomorrow, he had said to his friends that evening.
Then he tried to sleep for a few hours, got up early, packed his backpack and walked down the road to the shore of the lake.

If he had taken the bus for the first ...
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Incantations of the Vigiljoch

Incantations of the Vigiljoch

da Laura Johanna Braverman
19.02.2015
1. A CLEARING 11:15 / 22. February

Snow crunches underfoot as we walk up the path past the chair lift; it is the only sound stitched into the backdrop of quiet, along with the whir and clink of moving chairs passing over the small rubber-lined wheels of ...
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Who’s Afraid of the Bogeyman?

Who’s Afraid of the Bogeyman?

da Bruno Centomo
16.02.2017
A laugh a day keeps the doctor away! I yelled. And then You’ll die before your laughter does! The response came without hesitation. And I had the proof: A smile comes quickly to the face of a fool. It remained to be seen if I was merely ...
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Enough

Enough

da Gabriele Chiapparini
03.07.2019
It had reached that point in the day when Raffaele was forced to untie the knots that secured the curtains of the rooms facing west. The sun was now positioned directly in front of the house, and, before long, it would begin to set, flooding the kitchen ceiling with ...
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Having a dream

Having a dream

da Kareen De Martin Pinter
17.01.2014
Every summer, as soon as I finished school, my mother would fill a suitcase with some clothes, woolen socks and a pair of heavy sweaters then carefully prepare a bag filled with the tools of her trade: scissors, hair curlers, dying products, barrettes, and a stack of ...
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A ship will come

A ship will come

da Katrin Deibert
19.01.2014
“Yearning doesn't exist any more. Or if it does, then it is in danger of extinction like the lousy polar bear or the beaded lizard. That became clear to me last summer. I was travelling with my parents to an island in Greece. So awesome: there wasn't any airport. We ...
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One question, three answers

da Manuel Demetz
14.11.2007
The imagination to loose control of the situation becomes more and more a seldom feeling in our western lifetime. Organizers and mobile phones, brake control system and traction control, life insurance and pain pills – we have become really blessed! In our daily life ...
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Emilie on the Chairlift

Emilie on the Chairlift

da Annette Dressel
09.04.2018
Tick, Tock, Tick … Tock. Finally. The watch hand struck five o'clock. Only an hour until closing time. Quendula was sitting in the Valley Station behind the window reflecting upon what she could cook in the evening. A salad? But that wouldn’t suffice for Pfeiffer. For ...
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The Sea

The Sea

da Lisa Echcharif
21.06.2019
I'm hanging between two women.
Who are they? How did I get here?
I hang between them. They have picked me up holding me tight. My feet are raised and lowered as if someone were pulling them, like a puppet. And yet every step seems to cost me hours of ...
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Bag Guy Piet

Bag Guy Piet

da Lisa Echcharif
09.04.2018
Just as I leave my corner in the city park, I feel this pull in my left pinkie. My corner, yes! I don’t like being with others. Although it would be safer for me. In my case. I prefer being on my own. The others think I am a snob. You will see what you think about ...
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Room Without a Door

Room Without a Door

da Lisa Echcharif
16.02.2017
Her bench is empty. Noura sighs with relief. Whenever the weather and the absence of other people permit it, she takes this seat. Lunchbreak in a safe harbour. After the escape from Syria, even an ordinary, yet familiar park bench conveys safety. Noura sits back and ...
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Yearning

Yearning

da Claudia Engeler
19.01.2014
As I walked in on my mother, she was again standing at the stove. Her bowed shoulders suggested an advanced age that she would never reach. Her destiny did not let her deserve a prolonged future. She would die much too early. But I didn't know that then – then, when ...
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Little Winnetou

Little Winnetou

da Beatrix Erhard
03.07.2019
One step after another; one step after another. Lenny stares down at his feet clad in light deerskin moccasins embroidered by Small Sun with red, light blue and lavender threads of wool. Dappled sunshine covers the ground, which let Lenny’s white deerskin trousers seem ...
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Rabbit Time

Rabbit Time

da Christine F. Wagner
12.04.2015
I'm floating!
A tingling under the breastbone, in the belly and legs.
I remember how once as a child I had to be flown down from the mountain with a helicopter. Torn ligaments. That's how it feels to glide on the gondola.

I concentrate on my ...
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Alpine view

Alpine view

da Henrik Failmezger
03.07.2019
“Is that an eagle?” The boy stood out on the terrace of the hotel, half of his upper body leaning over the railing while making telescope eyes through his binoculars.
“A bearded vulture” said Professor Nestor. The boy handed his binoculars to the professor, who ...
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Mondays by the sea

Mondays by the sea

da Jürgen Flenker
05.04.2016
On a Monday in summer, I met God on his bicycle. It was on a levee near Cuxhaven, and God seemed to be in a rush, since he was bearing down hard on the pedals and his calf muscles shone round and powerful in the sun. His hair, as expected, was snow white and the blue ...
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Treasures

Treasures

da Verena Frasnelli
16.02.2017
Small red pearls tumble in the morning’s silence. The necklace broke. Ann Sophie kneels on the kitchen floor and starts to pick them up. Immediately a sentence falls into her head from a fairy tale that she told her children countless times: The good ones in the bowl, ...
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Carried Away

Carried Away

da Frederike Frei
19.02.2015
I have found a vacant compartment, close the thin, gray German train curtains to block out the excited luggage carriers in the corridor and take a seat at the window.
The opposing train on the tracks next to ours cast a shadow on my compartment, but that will ...
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The Smallest Sea in the World

The Smallest Sea in the World

da Piera Ghisu
02.05.2018
The sea was so beautiful that day. Every time he found himself before it Ali still managed to appreciate that, and that was why he had decided to live there, to stay: it was for that reason that he decided that, despite everything, this portion of land and sea was the ...
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What else?

What else?

da Stefano Girardi
03.07.2019
I open the window and let a biting breeze into the room. It’s only then that I notice the smell of our bodies.

Beyond the balcony I can make out the farm that presides over the valley: the men there are already at work, and I can see them, frenetic, as ...
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Journey of State

Journey of State

da Stefano Girardi
16.02.2017
I don’t remember how long I’ve been up here for, but one thing I know for certain is that I’ve watched at least half a continent go by. The girl who threw me back in the sea had wrung out her red hair, squeezing it between her fingers. Shortly before I had followed her ...
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Rhododendron and the No Man’s Land

Rhododendron and the No Man’s Land

da Helmut Glatz
09.04.2018
“There are borders everywhere,” Rhododendron said. “Between countries there are borders, between provinces there are borders, between the counties, the villages, the properties…”
“Yes, so?” asked Gregory.
“Just let me finish!” said Rhododendron. “Even ...
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Once...

Once...

da Renate Gottschewski
19.01.2014
… so, once an Austrian business friend invited me for a weekend to Schloss Fuschl – an incredibly elegant and large hotel direct on Lake Fuschl near Salzburg. We were to attend the Salzburg Festival – naturally see Don Giovanni, play some golf and enjoy an inspiring ...
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The Identity Question

The Identity Question

da Stephan Gräfe
16.02.2017
Time thickened in an Irish pub; it would be another hour or so before the barkeeper could close up and call it a night. During the week, especially on Thursday, business was very slow. On this night, only two regulars were lounging in the smoky back corner sunk in a ...
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Bearable Lightness

Bearable Lightness

da Barbara Gramegna
05.04.2016
The boss had told us at a meeting which was tense and to the point.
“You will have heard...ahem, times being what they are...ahem...we are facing challenging times...”, and so on.
Communication had never been Barzetti’s strong suit, but we considered him ...
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Sundays in September

Sundays in September

da Anita Hetzenauer
03.07.2019
About once a week, mostly on Sundays, I unlock my mailbox to find out what my orange “No Bulk Mail” sticker could not stop. These are almost exclusively bills, but today there is a handwritten envelope underneath. It is the only letter with a stamp. I haven't seen a ...
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The Apple

The Apple

da Anita Hetzenauer
09.04.2018
The Brenner Pass was the border of my two lives. The border between the one Resi and the other, both of whom were me and yet so different that it hurt. The Resi to the south of the Brenner lived a diligent, devout and childless quiet life as an unwed woman. The other ...
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Everything is perfect

Everything is perfect

da Anita Hetzenauer
19.01.2014
The sun is glued to the sky like a yellow buttercup. Two small, white cotton puff clouds borrowed from a laundry detergent commercial hang in the heavens nearby. They are bored, of course. Naturally they are only present for decorative purposes. They would much rather ...
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"Ssabiihn?"

"Ssabiihn?"

da Armin Hey
19.01.2014
Eyes open. Oh man; red wine hangover. Quick glance to the mountains. Wish I was there. Breathing in the clear heights of the cosmos, so near to the stars. To be free and become one with the undisturbed nature.
That would be nice.
But the Alps don't grow ...
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Gingerbread Heart

Gingerbread Heart

da Jessica Maria Hirmer
09.04.2018
This year the Engel family made a dream of theirs come true. The journey had been long, however they had arrived and now they were enjoying their vacation in the middle of nature. Like a cure for the soul, as if time was standing still.
The parents were tired ...
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