And suddenly, it went quiet for a moment of disbelief. He is playing the cursed card, only it has long ceased to be just another ... continue reading
Month: Feb 2022
Putin, go fuck yourself
It would seem that everything was going according to plan. The weather was good, the protesters came in decent numbers, there were flags, banners full of angry slogans, candles. ... continue reading
Kyiv, not Kiev
My word processor struggles with the name Kyiv. For some baffling reason, it suggests that I mean Vicky. At least it does not mind a psychopath, a thug, terror, war, ... continue reading
No time for regrets
A bully gets bolder over time, taking advantage of the passivity of decent people. So now, as we wring our hands over Kiev, ... continue reading
Why die for Kiev?
Do you remember these words? To fight alongside our Polish friends for the common defence ... continue reading
A pain in the…
Well-mannered people mince their words, presumably so as not to hurt the feelings of others. But when one casually mentions ... continue reading
People like us
Nobody loves people like us. Endearingly naive and possibly just as self-centred, we crave ... continue reading
The cadence of her steps
First, there was the ancient lyrical cadence of handclapping, which scared the gulls and attracted the eyes of rare passers-by. ... continue reading
Is there any coffee left, Dad?
“Let’s talk about Friday night.” “You know, it’s only Tuesday morning?” “That’s exactly my point.” ... continue reading
The day after yesterday
Solitude requires concentration. It all starts the day before, in the evening, with the effort of setting the alarm clock, until “effort” and “time” stop being synonyms. The vocabulary soon expands to include a new definition... continue reading
Necessities
“Your dinner is in the microwave.” He stared at an old plastic container with a misshapen lid, filled with a random mix of vegetables, some fresh and some canned, and water with a dash of olive oil. Dinner has always... continue reading
Nothing but silence
His greatest ambition had always been to be uneven, somewhat passé in every step he took, as he denied himself too much sense ... continue reading
The misery of the poet’s life
The poet was cursing the misery of his life. The small hermitage in the centre of a large city that he now shared with Mr. Nothing and Platocrates witnessed many of his misfortunes. Once conceived ... continue reading
To invent the fly
As he wandered through the shouting streets of Friday night, Mr. Nothing wondered if it was worth trading his tinnitus for the promise of fun at McNasty’s, as the name itself was ... continue reading
On the eve of returning to the office
Upset Mr. Nothing tried to remember the last time he had tied the Windsor knot. The blue shirts hung neatly in the wardrobe, waiting for the moment he would return to his previous routine. ... continue reading
hidden pilcrow 