Stories

Elide was born in 1926. Born a fascist. She was the daughter of a railway worker, who had been obliged to become a National Fascist...

CHAPTER 1 The appointment is for Monday 15 June 2015 at the Hotel Italia, «at 11:00 sharp», the message says. There will also be the other...

Turning and turning in the widening gyre    The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The...

  Five stitches on the right wrist, six on the left, Sam White had been marching non-stop for hours from wall to wall of his...

Mary had spent many days gathering wool from the whins on the headland. They were the bits of wool shed by the sheep before...

Alberto is working in Milan now. Ever since he had started living with Carla, and needed some money to get along, for a long time...

This year I want to make a Christmas crib. I haven’t made one since I was a child. I remember the joy of Christmas...

Cri is a butterfly, whirling happily, forgetting everything. Cri is a little long-legged swan, who dances, dances, dances until she is exhausted and whose ...

For the most wild, yet most homely narrative which I am about to pen, I neither expect nor solicit belief. Mad indeed would I...

  The place is far from the village just enough to prevent children from going there alone to play. Adults prefer not to pass by: to...