Category: Literature
The language of water
"Vivek, how's Bart's neural activity going?" asked the fat man who wore glasses and had a thin beard around his mouth, giving the impression of dirt created by oily hands rubbing against shiny skin. He barely finished his question when he alerted her
Read MoreJOSEPH
I look at the rope and the little body falls, horrifying howl, I hold her in my arms, we both lie down, it's raining on us, it's raining. Slowly, very slowly, the rapture grows fainter, the noise goes away, goes away, it's far away now, far away... I'm looking, it appears like a flash... light... light...
Read MoreThe Path of Temptation
The subway was full of headset-wearing corporate people staring blankly, trying to ignore each other. After two stations a seat becomes available, which Ruxandra takes immediately, fitting her bag between her legs. Robert kept his iPod in his right pocket
Read MorePoetry
PRIMORDIALĂ Curge dintr-un ochi gigantic,lacrima de început,Universul fantomatic zacestins în transparență,cade forma globularăprintr-un spațiu conceputde gândirea infernalăa pătrunderii în esență. DESCONCRETIZARE Eram dincolo de închipuire. Formele noisub iluminareaaceluiași spectru,ne adunau unul în celălalt. Lăsasem în urmăadevărul de până atunci;concretul nu mai zăbovea cu
Read MoreMe, the one in the mirror
A man who has lived his whole life in decay and ignorance, always carried like a leaf in the wind, will cling to any illusion, will make all kinds of unrealistic scenarios that he will get out of the miserable situation in which he finds himself.
Read MoreThe Midnight Lord
A rustling had awakened me from a deranged dream in which three cannibals had spared my life, asking me instead to hum a ballad I used to sing to them when I was younger. My eyes stung from so much darkness. Sleep had left me for good, but still
Read MoreThe creatures of the last night
The night... The night had haunted Andrei Iorga like a restless lover, ruined by jealousy, a mistress who pulls you into her clutches and would never let you go, strangling you with the possessiveness of her love. So is the dream, an amalgam of images
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