da Emanuele Quindici
03.07.2019
“Yes, tomorrow is Sunday and I’m not sure what I want to do. I mean in one way I have a million ideas: I’d like to conquer the world, but then I also feel like relaxing; I’d like to catch up with friends and then again I’d like to be on my own a bit. It’s always ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Emanuele Quindici
05.04.2016
“Ciccio! How big you are?” Ciccio is forty years old and his name is not actually “Ciccio”: it might well be Gianluca, or perhaps Gianfranco, but anyway, he has always been Ciccio, to the world at large. Which world? The truth is simple: Ciccio’s home has been a ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Emanuele Quindici
It’s midday on Good Friday and I’m in the town square of Monte S. Salvo, in the Campanian Apennines. Urban reconstruction has given new, anonymous faces to all the buildings that have been renovated since the earthquake of 1980, and yet you can still see the remnants ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Guergana Radeva
16.02.2017
She had reached the top, she thought, as her gaze flew over the snowy peaks of the Dolomites, it was impossible to get higher than this. Deep down, however, she knew that the climb had only just begun. To look at her, with her state-of-the-art winter gear and the skis ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Marco Romano
It was July, the full moon of the raspberry season. In a field they had pitched the tent and set up the totem pole. Two fires were burning, as were the first of the visions. The blankets were spread on the grass, their eyes blazed red, and the carafes of wine were ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Nadia Rungger
05.04.2016
The man looks out of the train window, his jacket across his lap and a black bag between his feet. He lets the villages, church steeples and apple orchards pass by. He knows where he comes from and he knows where he is going and how one enjoys life. I am sitting across ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Nadia Rungger
I'm blowing my nose. There is nothing more unpleasant than meeting a person you once knew well, but haven't seen for a long time. I put the handkerchief back in my pocket. It's a bad feeling. For a while now I have been waiting in front of Café Frida, awaiting and ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Giacomo Sartori
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 ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Giacomo Sartori
17.01.2014
Ilio was skiing down a nearly vertical wall when Lucilla met him, way back in nineteenhundredandseventyeight. She realized that he would be hers by the second awkward curve: he was a red dot on the blinding white of the gully, but to her he was already her man. He was ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Regina Schleheck
09.04.2018
Father couldn’t stand them, mainly because he couldn’t look away. He would see them from the living room, the bedroom, even from the bathroom. At least whenever he was standing while – well you know what I’m talking about. In the neighbour’s garden. Willy’s garden ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Gregor Schürer
16.02.2017
He always had the lights on. I could tell by observing the windows. It didn’t matter at what time I looked up to him, the shades were neither down nor were the curtains drawn. And the lights were always burning bright. Regardless if I came back at 5 in the morning ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Peter Schwendele
19.01.2014
The light in the stables was a little more dim than usual. She stood hesitantly on the stoop and let her toes dance in the oversized moss-green rubber boots. Her gaze passed over the lamps suspended irregularly from the ceiling like retro fire engine rescue lights from ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Edith Senkel
05.04.2016
Ashes were not heavy. They can be carried, he thought; he should be able to handle that.
Her eyes. Big, blue, no tears. A look.
Old wrinkled hands, clasped together tightly, unusually tight.
“Go up there with me!” she had said.
He knew it then ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Nora Spiegel
09.04.2018
The railway station in the little village of Lana is filled with delightful chaos. Hiking poles rattle on the asphalt; backpacks are being rummaged in the search for granola bars and water bottles. It is a clear, cloudless late-autumn day, the first one after two rainy ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Nora Spiegel
19.01.2014
By the time they found him, the man was already dead. They avoided digging straight down in order to not injure the buried victim. The head of the corpse was turned upward as though waiting for them. But what the men really avoided talking about as they returned back ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Sonia Sulzer
17.01.2014
No, I’m not preparing the soup, no soup tonight, though perhaps I should prepare more soups. I’m reviewed the exchange, trying to imagine the turn that our conversation might have taken so that he wouldn’t catch me unprepared, unprepared yes, but for what? What was I ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Benjamin Tietjen
04.05.2015
On the terrace in front of the timbered house, a man sits and reads Hamsun’s “Mysteries” as a waitress comes by and asks him if he would like a coffee.
“With pleasure, Anne,” he says and looks up from his book.
Shortly after the woman has left the scene and ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Elena Tognoli
18th May
I’m dropping everything and going. The palm trees, the tropical sea, and the briny piles of rubbish. I find life on the equator intolerable, with no change in season and no daylight saving time. I don’t recognise my own sweat-drenched skin, I look in the ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Susan Tumbrel
With an exhausted “Dinnng!” the display above the switch jumped to 37.
No one reacted.
“Thirty-seven!” barked the clerk.
Alice looked sleepily at the piece of paper in her hand, which had a 36 printed on it. She jumped up and rushed to the counter, ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Julia Uding
05.04.2016
It was the beginning of September with nights turning cool, and we drove into the woods. I was looking forward to the starry night sky the most. Way out where we were going you could still see them, the stars. I often missed them in the city.
We arrived and our ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Christine F. Wagner
05.04.2016
“Nadine, take the comforter away from the railing right now!” calls her mother. That tone Nadine likes the least. It’s so beautiful how the feathers glide away. One after the other detaches itself from the comforter and, carried by a strong gust of wind, floats ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Shannon Wardell
24.02.2020
For years I have noticed that every few months a conflux of deadlines storms through with multiple projects large and small due within weeks of each other. The weeks prior are challengingly stressful, like trying to juggle a bowling ball, a running chainsaw, a live ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Shannon Wardell
27.02.2019
The sculpture is about 15 hours away from being perfectly finished. Whether it is perfect or not is a different question entirely, one best left to others to decide. But it will be as perfectly finished as I am capable of, it being a single massive block of cherry ca ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Shannon Wardell
20.02.2018
Jay was screaming at me -
“How could you do that?! I told you specifically not to touch Anything. You know how nervous and worried Lena and Dr. Chris are. They will explode when I tell them that the incubator lid doesn’t close anymore. And why not – because you ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Shannon Wardell
16.02.2017
A Short Story About Peer Pressure vs GroupThink, and the Senselessness of Broken Zippers
or
Stand-up Comedy as a Modern Form of Ancient Greek Rhetoric
In her short red nightgown she sat in the corner of the bed, her arms wrapped around her ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Shannon Wardell
16.02.2017
Eine Kurzgeschichte über Gruppendruck vs. Gruppendenken und die Sinnlosigkeit von kaputten Reißverschlüssen
oder
Stand-up-Comedy als moderne Form altgriechischer Rhetorik
In ihrem kurzen, roten Nachthemd, saß sie auf der Bettkante, hatte die ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Shannon Wardell
19.02.2015
With that giddy excitement which irregular practice habits illicit, 4c raised his trusty trombone and warmed up with the “Camptown Ladies” bass line. “I still got it,” he thought while playing, “A few notes off-key, an occasional lip-flutter: but practice makes ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Shan Wardell
17.01.2014
Ask me what I yearn for and I could talk for hours.
I would differentiate with orderly efficacy between 5, 10 and 20 year projects, personal aspirations, professional goals, impossible-yet-worthy dreams, sexy short-term desires and faithful long-term visions. I ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Shannon Wardell
15.09.2011
“Which do you prefer, Happiness or Truth?”
Oscar drew two circles in the cool, dusky air with the thick temple of his horn-rims. Leaning on his left elbow over the glass terrace table, his quizzical smile slightly gleamed in the darkening courtyard of ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Shannon Wardell
27.10.2010
A peninsular outcrop of granite covered in larch and pine juts out into the lake, actually a reservoir of water snaking through an idyllic Alpine mountain valley with a massive dam at one end. Roughly four km long, but only 150-200 meters wide with many curves, this ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Shannon Wardell
28.10.2008
It triggers several moods in my brain at the same time, including these: hilarity with good friends after having toasted a round of Gin Martinis before a thrilling off-Broadway show; eager suspense after having received an unexpected package in the mail from someone ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Shannon Wardell
In March, we had already begun to muse about summer. Just the three of us this time, my son and daughter were already inclined towards something casual. I had actually been craving something a little edgy, like a graffiti spray tour through various European cities. But ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Kerstin Weinberg
12.04.2015
“Grandpa!” Hannah shouts loudly so that her grandfather could hear her with his hearing aid and pokes him in the back. “Grandpa, when are we finally going to go sledding? You promised!”
“You don't need to yell at me; I'm not deaf,” counters Grandpa, holding his ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Michael Wenzel
16.02.2017
Hella was looked down upon throughout the village for being particularly defiant and crabby, which is arguably the worst way to find a husband.
If a “witch” is a know-it-all and is constantly interrupting, why does she even need a hubby?
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Kevin Wood
18.08.2008
Being asked to write a ‘Mountain Story’ reminds me of all the times as a child I was asked at school to write in my journal on a Monday morning about what had happened at the weekend.
A good idea, provided something had happened you could remember and worthy ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Renate Wutte
12.04.2015
The key fit. Easier than she thought, it turned in the lock and the door sprang open. The smell of warm wood greeted her; she was welcomed.
The neighbour had offered her the small cabin high up on the mountain. Modest, but complete with all the necessities ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Alexandros Yannis
10.03.2013
Life is never really a still-life picture, an abstract image, a post-card. It is always an experience, a combination of what you see with what you feel, most often a unique moment never to be experienced again the same way. Vigilius is the same. The funicular, ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Stefano Zangrando
03.07.2019
It all started with a book, her last novel. “Please read it” my neighbour, Pia, had said to me, who was a friend and admirer of this writer whom I had neither met nor read: every time I saw her photograph in the papers or on television, she seemed too beautiful to be ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Stefano Zangrando
17.01.2014
Sergio leans back in his lounger and groans contentedly: “Now, this is life.” Pearls of sweat glisten on his forehead, just at the frontier between his salt-and-pepper hair and his designer sunglasses
Rita, at his side, takes a sip of sangria, puts the glass on ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Giulia Zoratti
02.05.2018
Michail had a secret, and it was this secret which drove him to come and live in our mountains. Something which had persuaded him of the appeal of a completely solitary life. He came to talk to me several years ago when the parish announced that they were ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia
da Sylvia Maria Zöschg
19.01.2014
Only after the evening meal is on the table, the housework is finished, Mother is finally asleep and Franz is still sitting by his after-work beer, only then does Maria have a few minutes to herself.
She goes out on the balcony. Sometimes she plucks away ...
>> Leggere l'intera storia