Ilija Đurović_1

Ilija Durovic

  PARTS OF TOWN   “Put the leash on me so I can take you out for a bit,” Hans told me. Hans is a perfectly groomed German...
Continue Reading
хармс

Daniil Kharms

“What is going on here,” Anton Antonovich would say, getting annoyed. “So, who am I then, according to you?” “We don’t know,” the acquaintances would say. “Only you’re not Anton Antonovich”.

Rating_Pisaki600

Daniil Kharms

WRITER: I am a writer! READER: Аnd I think you’re a piece of shit!

03-3-f-yenta-mash

Yenta Mash

They don’t realize that in this case everyone is in the same predicament, that the weight of the unknown presses equally on them all, and that all they want is to get out of this hell, off this barge, as quickly as possible, it doesn’t matter where...

obr224big

Ladislav Fuks

This amazing business makes me feel almost feverish. It’s more amazing than the silver casket. It’s just as interesting and strange, this change of mine, this transformation, as the Dalai Lama’s reincarnation in my book about Tibet, although it’s got nothing to do with it at all.

lorrain_jean2

Jean Lorrain

Amsterdam’s red-light districts are relaxing and refresh the soul; there is a sense of geniality there that is unknown in the Latin countries, and these devilish exhibitors, these solid doorkeepers to hell, defuse malice with their good shiny faces and their good thick hands in fur gloves, looking like thoroughly honest major-domos under their gold-tasseled caps.

berkova2

Alexandra Berkova

Once in the night I dressed my brothers, doctor, I was six, them three and two, I dressed them and we went out onto the street. I had to lead them off so they wouldn’t be swept away, too, by the breaker wave...

MirkaSzychowiak2

Mirka Szychowiak

I take a taxi back to earth, my tears dripping onto the upholstered seat. The driver turns around, worried.

Ak-Welsapar

Ak Welsapar

Ever since, the people on the coast were haunted by the fear that those uninvited guests would return someday, bearing not gifts, but weapons.

Marie Sizun

Marie Sizun

Silence again. The mother and child don’t look at each other, each lost in her own thoughts. They’re surrounded once again by the warmth of the kitchen, of their familiar world, where everything seems to be in its proper place...

Designed by B O D Y | Powered by Data3s