We've all seen the headlines in the news of how somebody lost their life in an act of cold-blooded murder,

and it grabs your attention, but have you ever stopped to think about the life of the person at the center of the news story?

These victims were way more than a salacious headline.

I'm Eric Carter-Londine, and my podcast, The Murder in My Family,

dives into some of those stories to help listeners get to know the person who was lost and how their death affected those closest to them.

Listen to the murder of my family everywhere you listen to podcasts.

Listen to the murder of my family everywhere you listen to podcasts. I'm I'm I'm I'm

I'm

I'm Welcome back, everyone to one thousand one classic short stories and tales.

I have two stories for you today.

One from Ernest Hemingway and the other from Frank Stockton.

And I know many of you listeners enjoy both of them.

These tales are as different as they could possibly be, with one exception. They both take

place in Italy. Hope you enjoy them. We'll start with Frank Stockton's, a tale of negative gravity.

My wife and I were staying at a small town in northern Italy, and then on a certain pleasant

afternoon in spring, we had taken a walk of six or seven miles to see the sunset behind some

low mountains to the west of the town. Most of our walk had been along a hard, smooth highway,

and then we turned into a series of narrower roads, sometimes bordered by walls,

and sometimes by light fences of reed or cane. Nearing the mountain to a low spur of which we

intended to ascend, we easily scaled a wall about four feet high and found ourselves upon pasture

land, which led, sometimes by gradual ascents, and sometimes by

bits of rough climbing, to the spot we wished to reach. We were afraid we were a little late,

...