short stories
- სპორტი
Leonid Andreyev – The Little Angel
At times Sashka wished to give up what is called living: to cease to wash every morning in cold water,…
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Leonid Andreyev – The Red Laugh
PART I FRAGMENT I . . . Horror and madness. I felt it for the first time as we were…
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Leonid Andreyev – The Serpent’s Story
Hush! Hush! Hush! Come closer to me. Look into my eyes! I always was a fascinating creature, tender, sensitive, and…
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Leonid Andreyev – The Seven That Were Hanged
I “AT ONE O’CLOCK IN THE AFTERNOON, YOUR EXCELLENCY!” As the Minister was a very fat man, predisposed to apoplexy,…
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Sherwood Anderson – An Apology for Crudity
For a long time I have believed that crudity is an inevitable quality in the production of a really significant…
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Sherwood Anderson – An Awakening
Belle Carpenter had a dark skin, grey eyes and thick lips. She was tall and strong. When black thoughts visited…
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Sherwood Anderson – Brothers
I am at my house in the country and it is late October. It rains. Back of my house is…
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Sherwood Anderson – Hands
HANDS, Concerning Wing Biddlebaum UPON THE HALF decayed veranda of a small frame house that stood near the edge of…
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Sherwood Anderson – I’m A Fool
It was a hard jolt for me, one of the most bitterest I ever had to face. And it all…
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Sherwood Anderson – I Want to Know Why
We got up at four in the morning, that first day in the east. On the evening before we had…
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