* I had a total of six hours and twenty minutes to spend at Warsaw airport that time. I don’t like layovers – especially indirect flights – so I spent a whole month preparing for this wait, planning what I could do to keep myself occupied. I knew it would be one of those transitional […]
This novel explores an alternative timeline where the oppressive power of the Soviet Union was never dissolved, and Lithuania remained one of its colonies. 14 June Hello! It’s me, A.G. You can call me Asta. This is my diary. If you are reading these words, please close it right this second and put it
3 Wild beaches, there isn’t a soul – it’s too far to come here for the summer vacationers. Just cliffs, with springs running through them, merging into little crystalline waterfalls, the rivers of which go to the sea, meeting with one another, parting, once again meeting – water and sand graffiti; after looking closer, it’s
January 16th, 2021 That piece of paper that had caught V.’s attention at the bus stop, that piece of paper hanging from that grimy advertising board, now firmly gripped between her fingers, was already yellowed, wrinkled like the cheek of an eighty-year-old, repeatedly getting soaked by the rain and then drying. A simple scrap of
Ieva Marija Sokolovaitė Read More »
Big Mater. Ona’s Birth. September I was born on a Thursday evening in the fall, in the basement sauna of a four-story apartment block like all of Pašilai’s children. In the stairwell near the mailboxes, Vanda killed a black chicken with a ladle to mark the occasion and boiled a pot of broth right on
All children are the same. It’s just that I believe I’m the only one who’s different. Every child in the village had at least several brothers or sisters, sometimes ten or more, whereas I was an only child like the one and only finger left on a carpenter’s hand. After the three-year war our family
* Then the phone rings, notifying me that Amanda has appeared on my match list. She is leaning on the table with both hands, her stomach bare, the edge of her panties sticking out above her trousers. A straight parting, a pretty face with clear skin, her eyes melancholic and somewhat wild, looking up at
9 When it all started, when I started to smoke and why, and why I smoked for twenty years, was it because that others smoked, that during my entire childhood I saw the fuming chimneys of factories, plants, and neighboring buildings, I saw men smoking (women didn’t smoke, because back then it wasn’t proper for
FUNGAL DREAM PART 1 2051 Survive. The most important thing is to survive. It’s the morning now, and I need to get up. To push on. To work. To do things. Another day to be endured. – Good morning. It’s six forty-five. Seventeen degrees outside. – Shut up, Anna. – Shall I wake you in
The Crisis of Representation Just a moment before the impact, I realized that I no longer had a face. I writhe in pain, gripping the air in front of me with my hands, terrified to touch the gaping chunks of wet flesh falling through my fingers in a thick red mush. I hold my hands
