- Reviews
Mindaugas Kvietkauskas. Gruntiniai vandenys: eilėraščiai, poetinė proza ir vertimai (Groundwaters: Poetry, prose-poetry and translations)
By Eglė Ambrožaitė
- Fiction
I write V., because it’s easier that way. A stroke down, a stroke up, and a period. V. It doesn’t hurt.
- Reflections on Belonging
What did we know about democracy? We fought for it. When Soviet tanks roared on Vilnius streets in 1990 and 1991, we were the ones who tried to understand why our predecessors didn’t resist in 1940. We had to correct it, no matter what.
by Rima Praspaliauskienė
- Poetry
Of all the possible worlds for me Wherever I was, or travelled to see There was one / it seemed / the truest Neither above / nor below uprooted
- Poetry
because now, at this moment
everything is fine
water still tastes good.
I am still alive.
- Essays
There was once a tradition – to say goodbye to a loved one by giving them a kiss. You say goodbye to a loved one, but you kiss a corpse – already like two different things. But actually, it’s the dead who kiss us. Every day. The dead kiss us through memory.
- Fiction
My nest is inside father’s trolleybus. As far back as I can remember, I was always there. The names of the bus stops mark summer vacation, horrible downpours after class, the Christmas Eve rush, the side mirrors completely caked in snow.
- Fiction
I came into the world in those times when storks delivered babies. Sometimes mothers would also find their children in a cabbage patch or in a wicker basket floating in a river amongst the reeds. But I was the only child in the whole village to have been bought.
