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 (312)
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Could Trump Run for a Third Term?
The Joke That Isn’t Funny Anymore When Donald Trump joked that he had already served "three terms," few in the audience laughed. He smiled, as he often does when testing the boundaries between provocation and ambition. In March 2025, he said flatly: “There are methods,” referring to a possible third presidential term. Suddenly, what once sounded like satire started to feel like strategy.
By Alain SUPPINI6 months ago in The Swamp
The Algorithm Chose My Children
I used to think we’d have twins. I saw it in a dream once, two tiny girls with my eyes and Ava’s laugh. They were running through a hallway of sunlight, dragging a blanket behind them, shouting nonsense and joy. I woke up crying. It felt so real, so inevitable. For weeks after, we called them by name — Lira and June — like they were already part of our story.
By Alain SUPPINI6 months ago in Futurism
I Remember the Future
Static Blooming Time hiccups. That’s the only way I can describe it — a lurch in my chest, a stutter in the world. The colors shift too fast. My hand is holding a mug I don’t remember picking up, and the tea inside is cold, though I remember just pouring it.
By Alain SUPPINI6 months ago in Fiction
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 SUPPINI6 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 SUPPINI6 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 SUPPINI6 months ago in Confessions
