Igor Sakhnovsky

    BAKHCHYSARAI ROSE   To the sacred memory of the poet Regina Derieva That September, in sweltering dusty Crimea, I was...
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Mikhail Kuzmichev

“I’m a murderer and I was going to murder you, too, which is why I fell in love with you. I mean, I really did fall in love, so I could kill you, but then I realized I wouldn’t be able to, and that I should kill myself instead. Can you understand what I mean?

Vladimir Kozlov

Igor came out of the living room. There was a lipstick smudge on his cheek. “She didn’t get it, still didn’t get it, and then she forgot it,” he said. He put his arm around Natasha’s waist and led her back into his room.

Yuri Mamleyev

Walking past a pole, out of the blue he punched a solitary lad wandering nearby right in the jaw. Though the blow was hard and the lad sprawled into a ditch, it was delivered with such inward indifference, Sonnov might as well have been poking the emptiness, except that a physical shudder passed through his bulky body.

Re: Word: Valery Ronshin

“Not exactly,” the president answered. “The thing is, here in Africa everyone's black. So at the Center they'll take off your white hides and pull on black ones.” “Oh, how wonderful!” Masha the stewardess was delighted. “That means I'm going to be black!”

Zakhar Prilepin

“What the fuck did you do this for?” One of the policemen, the fat one with emphysema, still couldn’t calm down. “The fucking fuck. Did you build any of this? What right do you have to destroy it?” No one was in a hurry to answer his question. Lyosha gazed calmly ahead, and you could read on his face that he didn’t feel the need to answer anyone’s questions. Sasha could have answered, but his busted lip stung, and he kept licking the blood.

Yekaterina Mikhailovskaya

Great Anets, how vile these Indifferents are! Their eyes are lifeless like a corpse, their hair is dirty and disheveled, their skin is pale, their gait is sluggish, and they’re silent as if they’d swallowed their tongue.

Vladimir Lorchenkov

“It doesn’t exist. There’s no such thing as Italy,” he categorically declared as he made his rounds. He’d dramatically smack his trowel against the clay, keeping rhythm with his own argument. “The whole thing was invented by international swindlers!”

Valery Ronshin

“And you’re not afraid of death anymore?” “Oh, madam!” the child cried out, and her face shone with joy. “Death is the most wonderful thing in the world.” A cold shiver ran up my back. All of sudden I didn’t feel quite so snug in this autumnal park.

Irina Bogatyreva

Hi, Julia, skinhead girl with a twisted smile, given to mild swearing. You saunter out, look your public over with that sneer of yours, hands in your pockets, clenched in tight fists. There’s just you and an audience, Julia, and who’s to say they are all on your side? You smirk, put on that husky voice, close your eyes in the spotlight, strike that guitar and sing about getting drunk on Saturday nights.

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