Bogdan Suceava

  GREETINGS FROM PRAGUE   That autumn I reread a few classics from the last century, those voluminous books that everybody mentions,...
Continue Reading

Re: Word: Nora Iuga

And suddenly I saw comrade Weed get up fast in the moonlight, and I heard a Jesus-fuckin’-Christ immediately muffled by the mat-lined earthen walls. That’s when I made out my friend’s greenish, frozen face, her eyelids lowered, her mouth gasping for air like a fish in an aquarium without water.

Designed by B O D Y | Powered by Data3s