Jan 5, 2026 | Fiction |
The day he receives his first wages, King Arthur of the Sewers and Slums leaves the office with a quiet sense of achievement. As it is a Saturday, most of the shops have stayed open late – the gin halls, the oyster saloons, the tobacconists, the confectioners, the...
Dec 20, 2025 | Fiction |
Through the glass walls of the buildings, a windy, feverishly pink, disturbing sunset. I’ve turned my chair so the pink won’t get in my eyes and leafed through these notes. I see: again, I’ve forgotten that I’m not writing all this for myself but for you, unknown...
Dec 6, 2025 | Fiction |
He and Ödon wait in the cold wood. It’s a winter afternoon and under the trees it’s already quite dark as they stand next to the car smoking cigarettes. “Who’re we waiting for?” István asks. “Just some guys,” Ödön says. “Are we in Croatia?” István asks, a minute...
Nov 15, 2025 | Fiction |
‘Grandma?’ ‘Umm?’ ‘When I go deaf, will I forget your voice?’ ‘How is that possible? The ear never forgets what the heart has heard.’ ‘I don’t know what that means.’ ‘It means my voice will always be by your side – even after I’m gone. Because I’m impressed here … and...
Nov 1, 2025 | Fiction |
The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like...
Oct 25, 2025 | Fiction |
A True Sport, the Mayor of New Orleans, spiffy in his patent-leather brown and white shoes, his plaid suit, the Rudolph Valentino parted-down-the-middle hair style, sits in his office. Sprawled upon his knees is Zuzu, local doo-wack-a-doo and voo-do-dee-odo fizgig. A...
