It has seemed appropriate to present first the Spanish version of this story; the versions in English and en français follow further below. Como siempre, las sugerencias y correcciones son bienvenidas. A la Villa Blanca (en espagñol) Estaba en… Read More ›
“Why does everyone look so unhappy!” Bursting with heroin, a New York lady Makes her presence known, boarding the subway. “People, tomorrow is Valentine’s Day!” Stumbling with sacks into a nearby seat, She mumbles about how she’ll live on… Read More ›
In a New York Belgian restaurant a woman’s coat lies open on the floor. She has just slept through the most important meeting of her life. An art dealer is waiting for money from Turkey and talking heatedly into… Read More ›
“I’m sorry, but I don’t get it.” “What don’t you get?” “Well, this line.” “This one right here?” “For instance.” “What don’t you get about it?” “What it means!” “What do you think it means?” “I have no idea.” “Well,… Read More ›
Two eggs sat poached on ham and toast, so pale and soft and tender, Tempura yellow just above: two breasts in a warm knit sweater. An innocent knife in the woman’s hand, it sliced and slit the gland –… Read More ›
William Eaton, January 2017 Idrew her, naked. She was beautiful. Young, long-limbed, subtle curves the length of her legs, tender facial expressions. (The work of a good model has a good deal in common with that of a professional… Read More ›
A little break from the political news. For the English version, just click. Le célèbre inspecteur de police et sa femme visitaient New York, où ils logeaient dans un immeuble, désuet mais confortable, déniché sur airbnb. Un soir, rentrant… Read More ›
