Santina Forlenza-Pihuličova

“Little Italian World” by Santina Forlenza-Pihuličova

Let me tell you a Mediterranean story no one has written yet.It is about Alba, a little girl. According to Italian language she shares her name with the sunrise. But Alba’s childhood, perhaps her whole life, with the Sun has much more in common. It almost depends on it, not only because Alba enjoyed spending her time in the sun, biking across the bending roads of the village she lived in with her family. She knew by heart the Latin names of each wild species of animals and plants br...

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“Just a bookseller?” by Santina Forlenza-Pihuličova

I imagined you were old, not because of the husky voice you may have, neither because of the deep lines that may cross the skin on your hand; I was just guessing, just dreaming.The shadow hiding your face, an old face, was slightly growing and slightly shrinking before your nose, as your thumb fumbled through hundreds of yellowish pages.It was not the same one, I knew it. "Except for the size,” you said, “except for that, they are different.”...

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“The Bell Keeper” by Santina Forlenza-Pihuličova

Submitted to Contest #126

** Capital punishment.** The paint was not of the most recent and neat, but the Tic-Tac-Toe’s Xs and Os staining it resembled fine embroidery. Flies found death in the old wall’s cracks and printed their last shadows on it, like stamps on a postcard nobody is pleased to receive.The four walls surrounding him had the night sky as a roof and dark stones as a floor. Handy was not sure it was night but if...

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“Did Ockham know fairies?” by Santina Forlenza-Pihuličova

If someone had to be recognized for their contribution to critical thinking, I would definitely mention William of Ockham and his Theory of the Truth. ‘Among several options the truest one is the simplest one,’ he believed. So is believed by philosophy books that every morning and in all parts of the world go to school, packed in colorful backpacks. My daughter Dorota is too young to attend a philosophy class. She enjoys playing with dollies and balls. I’m happy...

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“Rosy and Pop” by Santina Forlenza-Pihuličova

Submitted to Contest #104

As the sun lowered under the hill the TV turned on the main national channel whilst all the family waited for the show to begin and for the supper to be served. They sat in the dining room despite the table under the outside porch was a better option for a summer dinner, at least to me. My neighbors had different preferences. I did not know them personally, but from the spot I used to seat I could observe their behavior and forming an opinion about them. I never was an outgoing neither I did not enjoy moving from ...

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“The boomerang” by Santina Forlenza-Pihuličova

Submitted to Contest #103

I’m Og. Until yesterday my life was perfect. Perfect because whenever the boomerang ran in the air I knew exactly what to do. Day by day and wave by wave. Wave by wave because my friend Holly (no matter the weather conditions) used to bring me at the seaside to play boomerang together. He threw it whenever a wave approached to the seashore, not earlier and not later. I played in a different way; randomly, I would say, meaning that I threw the boomerang whenever I caught it, and I had a lot of fun.

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“An invitation from Mr. C” by Santina Forlenza-Pihuličova

Submitted to Contest #100

There are two reasons why I cut milk out of my diet. The first one is that on the monthly magazine I subscribed to for free there was an article claiming that milk is an excellent meal for toddlers, but when coming to grownups things are not the same. 'Adults are lactose intolerant,' the first line of the second paragraph read. Finally something I agreed on, considering that I could finally stop inventing a second reason why I did not like milk, because the second reason was never the same and never true. The thin...

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“The lunar eclipse” by Santina Forlenza-Pihuličova

Submitted to Contest #92

In a world where light was powered by the Sun and stored by the Moon, a lunar eclipse was the blackout. * The right night to catch the wild animal had come. The Shaman told them. “Why?” One of the hunters asked. “Because Silver Ball is full. Look how perfectly round it is...

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“The Lost and Found Office” by Santina Forlenza-Pihuličova

Submitted to Contest #90

Since Michael Angelini landed in New York, his parents did not stop reminding him that yes, he was not in Italy anymore, but he still was Leonardo Da Vinci’s descendant. He did not have to come up with a new Mona Lisa, they said, but with something acceptable at least.Michael was enrolled at the NY School of Art, and painting was his passion. He never painted anything good; his landscapes were fine ‘from the technical point of view,’ Professor Cracking said, however none of his canv...

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