Adam Bodor

  REBI   I am still half-asleep in the early hours when I hear sirens approaching the farm and it occurs to me that it's Rebi being...
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Central European Short Story Issue

We are bringing you a selection of short stories and short story collection reviews from Central European writers.

Dusan Sarotar

At this hour, in late March, in the year 1945, all that could be heard from the cellar bars and illicit taprooms was an incomprehensible mix of half-drunken tongues struggling to keep up with the tuneless wail of violins and cracked drums.

Dorota Maslowska

Days that she’d taken for lost, days when she’d felt like air that was slightly thicker and English-speaking, it must have been then that someone had been watching her the whole time, following her, dazzled by her existence, going crazy over her and . . .

Jose Alcantara Almanzar

It was as if she were in the pages of some story where dwarfs, magicians, and fairies suddenly materialize and the simple, concrete houses turn into marzipan and chocolate. The queen beheld with pleasure Gina’s puzzled attitude, walked around her, sweeping the accumulated dust on the floor with her skirt.

Stefan Bošković

You’d just be silent and gaze at the gold. As you try to master your inner turmoil and mature in front of the opulent rows of your favorite brand, your tongue struggles with the mass of orange gum.

Julia Butschkow

Tomorrow morning he’s leaving. There’s no way back. I’ve tried to talk him out of it. But he’s determined to go. Again. And he knows I can’t understand why he does it.

Jose Silva

My grandfather invented a famous memory. It was the result of long years of hard struggle and more than a little skepticism from family, friends, the community, and sometimes, it seemed, from the world at large.

Olja Savicevic

I’m interested to know how I’ll feel then when I drive with a girl in a convertible past soldiers driving on the other side of the road, knowing that they are going to war. Disgust with them or with myself? With them or myself?

Biljana Jovanovic

That’s how I started off inventing my own childhood; with no malice and no vanity; with empty space inside myself, around me, all around, everywhere…

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