Stories that evoke our deepest pains, like our regret for withholding love from those closest to us, like a need to fill the void of their absence, or our inconsolable calls to their spirits—in the dark, in the shower, or … Continue reading Of Love and Regret
One dog appears in a chapter of Hiro Arikawa’s novel, The Travelling Cat Chronicles. He is not Man’s Best Friend, just one man’s loyal if not too bright companion. Rather, the star of this novel and truly a man’s best friend is a stray cat who acquires the name Nana (for ‘seven’ in Japanese denoting the shape of his black tail) from a young man who befriends him. In the book’s Prologue, the thirty-year-old Satoru finds a cat on the hood of his silver van. He encourages the cat’s trust by leaving him food, caring for his injuries when a … Continue reading His Best Friend, the Cat
Next to the kitchen’s French doors hung a cage large enough for several uccelli or songbirds, gorging on grains and figs or singing their full-throated calls. Continue reading Birdsong in the Kitchen
“A complex world of human creatures and fantasy creatures, all vividly drawn from deep wells of imagination and rendered in crisp and lucid prose. A fabulous tale spun from ordinary longings and desires,both benevolent and malevolent. Continue reading Draako Stars Online
Every morning around 7:00 in casa Chellini, Teresa the all-purpose donna, housemaid, and scullion would knock on our bedroom door, ask “Si puo?”which meant, “May I come in?” and after hearing one of us answer, would enter bearing a wooden tray always set with the same objects: several thin slices of stale bread or dry toast, two small slabs of butter, a tiny pot of jam, two coffee cups and saucers, and a small pot of bitter coffee next to a little sugar dish,two tiny spoons, and a small pitcher of milk. Continue reading A Tavola: Breakfast in Firenze
I was nineteen years-old, far from all that was familiar, and immersed in a new language I’d only begun to study seriously a year earlier. I’ve been musing lately about those first six weeks outside Siena Continue reading In Casa Vivante, or a First Stay in Tuscany
I write more than fantasy fiction. Look for my short stories online: in After Hours (print), bewilderingstories.com, http://www.horrorseek.com/home/horror/darkfire/ficarch.html, http://www.fictitiousthejournal.org/, the Weird Reader, and the Fall Fantasy Anthology out of Cloaked Press in Autumn, 2017. Continue reading Not Only Dragons
As I raise a warm mug to my lips, steam wafts over its rim and carries the citrusy scent of chamomile tea to my nose, a scent never failing to remind me of a very bad day. Decades ago, I was a student on junior year abroad in Florence, Italy. Enrolled in a class on the history of the Italian language I was supposed to attend at least twice a week, I thought at the time I had better things to do than sit in a dark, dank classroom in an old University of Florence building in Piazza San Marco. … Continue reading The Tea That Saved Me… Sort Of
It was autumn in Europe. I was in Paris. No chestnuts were in blossom. No holiday tables sat under the trees. The sky was overcast, and I hurried through drizzle without an umbrella. I’d taken a break from my … Continue reading Autumn: Paris to Firenze (Florence)
Marie and I, newly arrived in Florence, Italy, were strolling on Borgo Ognissanti and turned the corner to use public toilets at the Excelsior Hotel. Home was still a mile away and we’d had too much coffee at the … Continue reading A Close Encounter of the Italian Kind
Susan Bass Marcus Writes 