Pain, heritage, unveiling

By Lorenzo Novani I woke to howling wind and all the hostility that it brings: the little door to the shelter rattling violently, snow fluttering through the sides, cold air reaching up to sting my face and leave me numb. I thought about my predicament. I was 1,345 meters above sea level on the collapsed dome of an extinct volcano, …

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Childhood, writers, dilemmas

By Lee Foust For a fiction writer, one’s childhood grows plotted, thematic, and comes to reek of manipulated matter. The childhood recollection can be anything but honest, anything but benign. I frame my own in Gothic. There were monsters. No, not under the bed, but along the deserted streets of a lonely, countryish California suburb. Before cement sidewalks and Astroturf …

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Once upon a time I gave up on people

Ever since I was a child, I loved observing humans. I loved the way they talked, the way they walked, acted, thought, innovated, struggled, prevailed. Whenever there was a problem that needed solving, I was there to help. Of course, most of the time I made a bigger mess than needed. Thus, over the years, close family and friends discouraged …

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Fatherhood, love, triumph

By David Orr My two year old son calls me ‘Daddy’, occasionally ‘Babbo’, and a few times a month, ‘Davide’.  Of the three, ‘Davide’ is the most startling, as if he’s aged sixteen years in a sentence and turned into an ironic teenager.  Also, my first name is David – Davide is what comes out the other end of an …

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Thoughts of solitude

We are our best friend and our worst enemy. We take our first breath alone and we breath in for the last time… alone. Solitude saves us; solitude condemns us; solitude kills us. When I was five years old I found my best friend looking back at me from behind the mirror, smiling, goofing around while I brushed my teeth, making …

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Inspiration, burdensome, true love

By Lisa Saltagi  It was mid-summer. Those nights when nothing matters except who you’re with and how much the sun has painted your body gold in those glorious afternoon hours.I was in a shop by the water – one of those places that is a labyrinth of little rooms with everything that you never needed and never even knew you …

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Dear diary….

Dear diary I am tired. I spend my mornings sending out hundreds of emails and my evenings racing my fingers on the keyboard while listening to stories in my headphones. Every morning I wake up hoping that today’s sunshine will last longer, that I will find at least one reply to yesterday’s emails, that my stories aren’t boring, that this day will be …

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The human life as a puzzle

I am a puzzle fanatic. This statement may seem unbelievable to the people who know me well, giving that I am awful at playing puzzle games. I never see the pieces that should fit together fast enough and images that children can assemble in only ten minutes, I usually solve in twenty. But human puzzles! Oh, the human life puzzle! The pieces that build the …

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14 years later…

First day of high school. A lot of new faces, a lot of smiles and hand shakes. I sit in front of my classroom door thinking I do not want to step into this new world full of new acquaintances, new dramas, new friendships that will most likely end bad. I take a deep breath, put a fake smile on …

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Why is the Lebanese culture so important to me

As many of you know I am the writing queen of the indie documentary film project “Growing Cedars in Air”, directed by Mark Abouzeid. Yes, you read it right, I am the writing queen! When people hear about what I do, they often ask me why did I get involved in a project about Lebanon, a country that has nothing to …

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