Home of The Naughty Stories Series
The impresario, Tony di Curtis was sitting in his office with a cigar in his hand when he turned to Katarina and anyone else who cared to listen to him (since the door was half open and an act was pacing outside) trumpeting his desire to learn English from a real Englishman. “By the way,” …
Sario was the eternal student; at thirty-five he still lived at home. Officially he was at work on his thesis which was rather grandly entitled “Upon Nationalization and the post-war Italian economy” but, if truth were known, he wasn’t doing anything very much except hanging out with Gavin. When Gavin went to the Maltese, Dario …
The school used to give us a cheque, every month, to cash in the Banca Commerciale. By the end of the month I was always a bit short of cash. Although I kept something back in an envelope that slotted into the upright desk in my room (I trusted Katarina and Amelia implicitly), that month …
Sabi had been away on business in the north. When she got to Raff’s place, he was out, so she phoned him on his mobile. “Where are you, amore?” “At the Poly. – Where are you?” “Sitting on your bed.” “With or without your undies?” “Porco, when are you coming home?” Sabi hung up. As …
I was in the middle of a translation; and, as it was a particularly tricky one, my brain was starting to fog with quibbles, so I stepped out onto the balcony and stretched. From my balcony, I should point out, if one looked left, one could make out the blue of the sea. It was …
If Katarina and Amelia had always felt rather sorry for Guisi, they were in two minds about inviting her to their party. “What’s wrong with Guisi?” asked Patrick. “Nothing,” said Amelia. “She’s a little dull. That’s all.” “She’s not dull,” said Katarina, “she is spectacularly boring.” “You mean she’s a little dyed in the wool?” …
By his own estimation of the waters you did not need to know much about Piero to know things were looking decidedly lumpy. His wife had left him two years before for a fisherman; his one and only daughter had moved to the north – apparently also in pursuit of a fisherman; as a consequence, …
Once upon a time, in the days before we all had little wheely bins to take on Ryanair or Easyjet, Patrick had a black Roncon suitcase with a blue strap around its middle to secure it. When it did not come up on the carousel, he went outside to smoke a cigarette. Finishing his cigarette, …
“If we want things to stay as they are, things will have to change.” Il Gattopardo, Giuseppe di Lampedusa Without a doubt Gavin Brady was a product of that mythical time in the faculty when it was enough to flash your Irish passport and the professors would assume you were a literary descendant of James …
Guy had just been taken on as lettore, or reader, in the faculty of literature and foreign languages when he was asked to be part of the commission for the new research post. One of the candidates was a young woman. She entered the room on towering heels and made a big show of tucking …