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 (315)
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There Is an Invisible Cord Around My Heart
Tightening Some mornings, I wake up already caught. The cord is there, pressing. Not like a noose, not quite. But more like someone pulling gently on a thread behind my ribs. A tension without hands. A breath I forgot to take. I sit on the edge of the bed, motionless, watching the light change on the floor. Like maybe if I stay still enough, the world won’t notice I’ve cracked.
By Alain SUPPINI7 months ago in Confessions
Memory of a Forbidden Dream
Residual They say no one dreams anymore. Not legally, at least. Every bed now comes with a compliance scanner. Every sleep cycle is measured, purified, corrected. The Syndicate of Wakefulness ensures that neural impulses remain within regulated bounds. Nothing abstract. Nothing deviant. Nothing that might inspire.
By Alain SUPPINI7 months ago in Fiction
How I Dismantled the Wolff Conglomerate (and Lived to Tell the Tale)
The Wolff Doctrine Let me make one thing clear before we begin: I wasn’t trying to be a hero. I wasn’t even trying to dismantle anything. When I first peeked behind the velvet curtain of Wolff International, I was just looking for a job. Or rather, for a bathroom. The job came later. Technically, I was a third-party contractor subcontracted by a shell company owned by a holding company majority-owned by Wolff’s cousin's dentist's college roommate. That’s how deep the rot goes.
By Alain SUPPINI7 months ago in Confessions
The Ministry of Distraction Did Its Job Well
I. Please Enjoy Responsibly They told us to live in the moment. And so we did. We streamed it. Filtered it. Monetized it. We became our own commercials. Our lives were montages, chopped and set to lo-fi beats. Every breath, curated. Every silence, scored.
By Alain SUPPINI7 months ago in Fiction
Three Little Fools and the Big Bad Shareholder. Top Story - July 2025.
Once upon a time, there were three little fools. Not mean fools. Just... a bit naive. A little too hopeful. Overflowing with good intentions and degrees that no longer paid the rent. They had ideas, subscriptions to collaborative tools, and a shared desire to be free in a world run by blurry clients and clearer algorithms.
By Alain SUPPINI7 months ago in Fiction
The Day My Toaster Joined the Insurrection
I remember it clearly: it was 6:38 a.m. on a Thursday. I had just inserted two slices of crustless, semi-wholemeal industrial bread, with vague plans to smear them with omega-3 enriched margarine. The toaster, however, had other ideas.
By Alain SUPPINI7 months ago in Fiction
The Empty Chair
She never moved it. Every morning, Éloïse got up, made tea, cut two slices of bread, spread jam on one, honey on the other—just how he liked it—and set everything on the table. Opposite her: the chair turned toward the window. The one he always sat in.
By Alain SUPPINI7 months ago in Fiction
