A collection of stories of parts of people’s lives..by Joe Carli.
“ If you could imagine us all walking side by side toward a sunset, with our lives trailing away behind; a shadow drawn in perspective from the point of our birth. We are all facing the front so none of us really knows the substance of our neighbor’s ‘shadow’, and we can only make calculated … Continue reading
I am going to tell you a story that happened back in the late fifties (last century!) as told to me by an aged Nun, who had some connection to the incident. While the story I tell, dramatized as it is, is a true story, the ending as I portray it, is , unfortunately a … Continue reading
Continuing my Italian Story theme..: I heard this tale from my sister when I once visited her in Italy back in the seventies. She told me she had not long been in the village when one day whilst sweeping by her back door, an older woman hurried past. My sister said “hello” in politeness, but … Continue reading
Cruel Madonna. It was a month now since he had first gone to her, and his perceptions of her had shifted from that initial phase of blind adoration to a more abstract collation of her little mannerisms. Malcolm was twenty-seven years old, an illustrator-painter who, like most artistic types that arise from the ranks of … Continue reading
My mother worked as a servant girl at the station on the Murray where this event took place..She heard it told by the station owner to a guest one night after dinner. Those stations in those days were almost like miniature kingdoms on their own. It is one of those little things that one sometimes … Continue reading
Many years ago, I was invited by a close friend to come to Perth to do some major renovations to his house..a kind of “carpenter’s holiday”. There, I met the lady about which this story was written. I got to learn about a kind of “way of life” for seemingly many single parents there..ie ; … Continue reading
Years ago I was “doing a reno’” for this Greek bloke who was managing the job for his daughter…who was the owner of the house. She was as the lovely “Anna” described in the story below. She would come around to the job every few days and talk to the old man about design and … Continue reading
“Buongiorno signore e signora turisti”.. Bertouli called out effusively with appropriate operatic gestures with the arms. ” Welcome to my humble stall….Scusi signora, but your shadow falls on my bowls and utensils and dulls their shine….grazi!” he danced around his wares manipulating the tourists with gentle hand movements, all the while keeping up a running … Continue reading
End of stories.