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The Garden Party - story

Katherine Mansfield

And after all the weather was ideal. They could not have had a more perfect day for a garden-party if they had ordered it. Windless, warm, the sky without a cloud. Only the blue was…

The Carriage - story

Nikolay Nekrasov

The Death-Bed Notes of a Fool My life is coming to an end. Soon Death will tap its boney finger on my door… soon! Suffering has so withered my chest that no maiden’s kisses can…

When I arrived in Brussels, the supposed end of the European dream was all the media could talk about. General levels of uncertainty had increased, as had violence on public transport – for instance, when…

Interruption of Service - story

Tomás Sánchez Bellocchio

The house was falling down around us, but once you reach a certain age you just let it happen. The dirty plates were piled up in the kitchen, there was no one to make my…

The Model Millionaire - story

Oscar Wilde

A Note of Admiration Unless one is wealthy there is no use in being a charming fellow. Romance is the privilege of the rich, not the profession of the unemployed. The poor should be practical…

Caviar - story

Ilka Papp Zakor

I’ve found so many things in my hat by now, I couldn’t even list them all. Sandwiches, rotten food, rocks, trash, dog shit more than once. I end up with more junk than bills. But…

The Cool Water Well Junction - story

Aravind Adiga

The old Cool Water Well is said never to dry up, but it is now sealed, and serves only as a traffic roundabout. The streets around the well house contain a number of middle-class housing…

A Manual for Cleaning Women - story

Lucia Berlin

42–PIEDMONT. Slow bus to Jack London Square. Maids and old ladies. I sat next to an old blind woman who was reading Braille, her finger gliding across the page, slow and quiet, line after line….

The Mouse - story

Anais Nin

The mouse and I lived on a houseboat anchored near Notre Dame where the Seine curved endlessly like veins around the island heart of Paris. The Mouse was a small woman with thin legs, big…

An Archangel Named Gabriel - story

Alonso Cueto

Sr. F.R. Montes came home at nine o’clock every night. He lived in a building on Armendáriz Street, in a spacious apartment with large windows and an infinite view of the ocean. Usually, after passing…