David Jan Zak

THE RETURN OF THE KING OF THE BOHEMIAN FOREST   (an excerpt)   CHARLES ECKERT stands by an open window in the office of the...
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Petra Hulova

I wonder if she knows how to strangle a snake until it turns red, to take hold of it by the throat and give it a proper yanking? Because if she did, she would have no reason to take care of herself anymore, and wouldn’t have to worry that her makeup was expired, crusty, and peeling off in strips like the damp plaster of the building where she sits out every day.

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...

Magdalena Platzova

Sometimes, I look at myself and feel vertigo. Who are all these contradictory people who, just by habit, I call “myself”?

Jan Balaban

After his first stay he left with some kind of hope and even someone waiting for him. Now the world on the other side of the white walls seemed more inhospitable than the barren landscape within him.

The Czech Issue

Over the course of November, B O D Y will introduce you to some of the most noteworthy poets and prose writers writing in the Czech Republic today.

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