the short story project


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The Other Woman

The Other Woman - story

Sherwood Anderson

“I am in love with my wife,” he said–a superfluous remark, as I had not questioned his attachment to the woman he had married. We walked for ten minutes and then he said it again….

The Girl Goes to Calabria

The Girl Goes to Calabria - story

Giuseppe Berto

While he was waiting for his gas tank to be filled at one of the many stations found at the beginning of the Cassia road, on the way out of Florence, attorney Adami kept looking…

Scenario (A Chapter from a Novel)

Scenario (A Chapter from a Novel) - story

Saleem Albeik

We didn’t stay long at the bar. After we got Melanie’s text, I had the feeling that each of us wanted the other to finish their drink so we could take off for one of…

The Secret

The Secret - story

Alejandra Laurencich

The door of the bus opened. From her seat, Elena watched the passengers climb in. “Where does he think all those people are going to go?” she asked her daughter, who was sitting next to…

The Real Cambodia

The Real Cambodia - story

Laura Jean McKay

I always wanted a girl. There were places, shops almost, where you could get a girl at any time of the day and they even remembered your name. But I wanted a girl that I…

The Woman Who Wouldn’t

The Woman Who Wouldn’t - story

Jorge Ibargüengoitia

I must be discreet. I don’t want to get her into trouble. I’ll call her… I have a photograph of her in my desk along with a few photographs of other people as well as…


Dune - story

Dorit Peleg

Paul Nimoro was Japanese. He was many things; but above all, he was Japanese and he valued the qualities he knew he had inherited‒ precision, self-discipline and along with them, perhaps less visible but still…

90 Ahad Ha’am

90 Ahad Ha’am - story

Yotam Reuveni

 In the summer of 1977, you moved to 90 Ahad Ha’am Street in Tel Aviv for one month. The summer was a real summer. There was no air-conditioning in 90 Ahad Ha’am. The entrance to…

The Foreman’s Wife

The Foreman’s Wife - story

Selva Almada

Sitting on each side of the double bed, Jana Rietter and I watch over the wounded man. The yellow light from the kerosene lamp gives the room a ghostly atmosphere. Despite the large open windows,…