Some time ago, I read Maria Stepanova’s essay The Suitcase of Language, published in Equator. It had been a long time since I had come across a text that made me nod in agreement so often. Stepanova describes the fate of the new Russian émigrés after the war in Ukraine – people…

I don’t know whether someone told me this or I read it somewhere, but tonight one of those wise-sounding phrases has been spinning around in my head – the kind of thing you’d proudly serve up at a dinner table. It goes like this: “Nothing ages you faster than fulfilled dreams.”…

“No,” said the Girl, and there was a familiar note in her voice. Painfully familiar. “No parking!” “Keep off the grass!” “Occupied!” “Oh, come on,” thought the Boy – who by now wasn’t really a boy anymore, but a short-cropped, greying little man. “It was ‘no’ the other day, too,…

Köpenik, Berlin, the beginning of the new century „This isn’t you,” she said in a tremulous voice. „I don’t recognize you like this.” Regaining control, she repeated, „This isn’t you.” He flared up. „You, how do you know who I am? You think you know me so well? After a few…