Emiluţa has an unfortunate thought. She’ll throw herself
off the top of the building. Why? What the fuck? Let’s say for the cause of
PeaceonEarth, for the slumdogs,
Europe, for
the lonely. Which is to say she doesn’t have a ghost of a reason. Viva
Walachia!
The way things stand, if ...
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The bearded man was the owner of an apothecary shop where he worked with two apprentices. Nobody paid me any mind, so I spent all day in what was supposed to be the shop. I say this because it was a large, dark room full of odors—a mix of smells from everywhere. The room hadn’t been cleaned ...
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“What you’ve got here is heaven on earth,” Vica says as she drops onto the kitchen chair. “But where’s your mother?”
“At work,” Gelu lazily replies, leaning sideways against the door. “She’s doing mornings this week, didn’t you know?”
He is tall and thin, with unset ...
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It happened once as never before-y, ‘cause if it couldn’t be true, it wouldn’t make a story about the time when the poplar tree made berries and the willow tree broke out in cherries, when bears began to brawl with their tails, and wolf and lamb, unfurling their sails, threw arms around each ...
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In Praise of the Soviet tualet
Dedicated to Ilya Kabakov
There’s hardly a space more conducive to intimacy in the life of the Soviet ...
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