SHORT STORIES

GALLOPING HORSES by Giorgio Scerbanenco

Andrew emerged once again form the darkness and saw, as through a veil, the woman seated at the mirror. She was a brunette, soft and naked in a negligée as transparent as coloured glass.

But the galloping horses, with their long wind whipped manes, their muzzles dripping with pure white foam from the unbridled race, they were gone.

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THE BEST PART by Diana Lama

The best part of the chase is the kill.

This was his opinion at least, confirmed by years and years of successful hunting, dozens of quarries stalked, flushed out and killed. Every moment of the pursuit was exciting of course, and there was also the satisfaction of seeing his technique improve from one occasion to the next, his eye sharpening so as to be able to pick out a suitable victim from among many: the right one, the one who would let herself be stalked, fleeing gracefully and later struggling to the very end.

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