“Won’t you give me some loose change?” A tall, thin girl with short hair and a cigarette behind her ear stuck out her hand. Her narrow black jeans made her…
The published fragment is from the story Beyond the Grave, published in the book Nets. This prose is gently, grotesque, mercilessly direct, with a permanently…
A position which after some time makes her head spin; she mustn’t straighten up too quickly; each time sparks dance before her eyes, glittering brightly on a black…
She told me she loved me as a verse-creating object, as something with an enormous shaggy tail, something absurdly spectacular and at the same time hopelessly…
I was facing death. Death in form of my eternally drunk father, staggering around the kitchen and bawling “I’ll kill you all”. This summer could have been…