I met Maicol at primary school, but only three years ago I understood how worthy he was. He went within a split time from barely one hundred friends, to ten thousand, six hundred and eighteen. I don’t know if you...
“What time is it?” “A quarter to nine already”. “What shall we do? Shall we order?” “I would say yes. I think we have waited too long for her”. “Cheng-three cappuccinos and three brioches!”. The waiter appeared at the small table picked, as each...
My name is Alina and I am Romanian: I know that people look at me even when I buy groceries at the supermarket. I feel the cashier’s eyes scanning me, the shop assistant’s glance slipping into my neckline, the...
“Excuse me, madam, may I sit here?” “Please sit down.” “Do you love this opera too?” “I love in particular all operas.” “I've never seen you here.” “I only come when there are operas I am interested in.” “I see. Didn’t your husband come with...
Grandma went to town yesterday and never came back. What happened? I don’t know. Alma tells me not to worry. She says: “Don’t be scared, Nenad”. But I’m not scared: I am not a child! I am just a little...
When the war in Libya broke out, we started working again. Sea arrivals on Lampedusa island and on the southern Italian shores had picked up again: refugees had intensified their entries in Europe. For a few years, the influx had slowed...
Do you remember the interview day at the bank? Yes, when we met the director in the management offices, up at the last floor. A special occasion indeed, not for the interview itself, but because we met in that...
As we climb towards the north, towards the Alps, feeling our way along the Grenoble road to get to Lyon and then up again, to get to Dijon, around Paris and not too far from Calais, I think that...
I look at the ancient chest of drawers and wonder if the latest events may be linked to the arrival of this object in my bedroom, close to the wall, and absurdly lying on one side. It is a...
Sior (Mister) Alvise Zanatta was never seen at home and many of those who knew him,  and would see him around the “calle” both day and night, asked themselves if indeed he had a home or whether he lived...

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Rishi Dastidar – Come on abacus

Common sense-ism tells us all this look at me energy, this childish hope that we might belong to somewhere, someone, has to be expended before we get given...