short story no. 56

It all started when the Grade 12 students of Southcoast all-boys school decided to run among themselves an online poll titled “Who Would You Rather Fuck”. Only two choices: Mrs. Wilfreda Piamonte — music teacher, the only female teaching in the Southcoast faculty because she was well past sixty years…


short story #55

1

Father Peter died in April 2020, more than a month into the COVID-19 lockdown, but it was not because of COVID. Not directly. …


short story #54

Sanza riposo mai era la tresca

de le misere mani, or quindi or quince

escotendo da sé l’arsura fresca.

Dante Alighieri, Inferno XIV, 40–42

He was trapped on the fourteenth floor of a burning building and now he wanted out. It had started as a tiny flame at first and…


short story #53

“Listen,” the bar manager said. “Listen. Hey, are you sweating? You are. You’re sweating. Christ! You’re nervous, aren’t you? Kid, listen. I’m sorry but this clearly isn’t for you. I mean just look at yourself! You’re a mess! Let’s call it off while we still can. Jerry! Jerry! Get over…


short story #52

“Weave, weave the sunlight in your hair — ”

T.S. Eliot, La Figlia Che Piange

The elevator had to break down on a Sunday, just when it was my turn on duty at the reception desk, just when the rest of the apartment staff was out for the weekend. Mr…


short story #51

The clock ticked as Sam sat tensed on the couch of the rector’s office. The rector was on the adjacent seat, leaning back to give off a guise of relaxation, hands fixed together in a customary solemn amen, black soutane billowing softly over his huge soft figure. Sam had taken…


short story #50

There’s no denying it now. He stood half-naked in front of the bathroom mirror, turning his torso at different angles, squinting his eyes, catching the light from different points, tucking his belly in and out, out and in. With his thumb and forefinger he grabbed a soft, loose fold of…


short story #49

When I was in second grade, it occurred to our teacher how clever it would be to organize, in our classroom, an exhibit of dinosaurs made out of recycled materials. It would be very educational. …


short story #48

I knew I was in a rush to get to the hospital. But I couldn’t just let them take me for an idiot. …


short story #47

Huffing and sweating, the priest arrived at the parish office to see the old woman, the familiar veiled fixture in the pews of the parish, standing in front of the glass doors of the conference room with her arms folded and her face slightly raised in an expression of cold…

Alvaro Adizon

Aspiring novelist. Frustrated theologian.

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