Alain SUPPINI
Bio
I’m Alain — a French critical care anesthesiologist who writes to keep memory alive. Between past and present, medicine and words, I search for what endures.
Stories (323)
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The Electric Arcanum
A storm crashed over a forgotten glade, encircled by ancient standing stones. The sky, torn by lightning, roared as if time itself were warring within its folds. At the center of the stone circle, a portal opened—swirling with electric blue and deep, arcane violet. The air trembled, saturated with raw energy.
By Alain SUPPINI10 months ago in Fiction
CONFUCIUS AND SOCRATES: THE DAWN OF A NEW WORLD
Thousands of leagues to the West, by the dazzling sea and the sun-scorched hills, a child was born—one whom no one would then have suspected of a destiny. Socrates was not noble. He was not handsome. He was neither the son of heroes nor of oracles. His father, a stonecutter, carved the statues that adorned the temples of Athens; his mother, a midwife, helped women give birth amid cries and prayers. From his father, he learned the patience of the chisel upon the rock. From his mother, he inherited the subtler art of helping souls give birth to themselves.
By Alain SUPPINI11 months ago in Fiction
CONFUCIUS AND SOCRATES: THE DAWN OF A NEW WORLD
There exists, lost between the ages, a place that no traveler has ever been able to find twice. A nameless city, set upon a forgotten land, where the stones of the squares are as ancient as the sky itself, and where flowers bloom in the interstices of the cobblestones, bursting into white corollas beneath the feet of the wise. A place where the wind, as it passes between the marble columns and the golden pagodas, sings a hymn that neither Greece nor China can entirely claim.
By Alain SUPPINI11 months ago in Fiction
The Spectral Battlefield
The mist hung heavy in the air, dense and mysterious, shrouding everything in an impenetrable veil. The echoes of past battles reverberated like distant whispers in the cold wind. Jeanne d'Arc walked alone, her heart firm and unwavering. Each step she took brought her closer to her destiny, a destiny guided by a faith as pure as the steel of her sword. She knew this battlefield was not hers, but that of those who had sacrificed their lives for ideals, kingdoms, and gods.
By Alain SUPPINI11 months ago in Fiction
