short-story

  • Ъ – a letter firmly holding its place in the alphabet, producing not a single sound, possessing no precise shape or definition, and yet it exists. We all know of Ъ. It gives form to our words, separating their softness the moment they approach an ending. The alienation of Ъ lies in its inner excess,…

  • I am engaged to silence,  not serenity, but a quiet pearlescent sorrow that permeates everywhere and everything, accompanying my every movement. It’s as if a needle is slowly killing me day by day, piercing deeper and deeper into the solar plexus, which is physically palpable even when I am still. It seeps out in bloody traces…