An Ironic Homage to Walter Benjamin, and a Cheerful Eulogy for the Human Pen The New Aura of the Algorithm For most of human history, writing has been the most intimate of acts. Fingers stained with ink. Cigarette ash on the edge of the typewriter. Long nights. Longer silences,…

My father, my most beloved Bulgarian, died a long time ago, on his feet. In this way he gave his sons a final – and perhaps most important – example, but that is not what I want to talk about. My old man, Mitko Enev, died trying to reach the top of the stairs, where an ambulance…

„Shall I leave you alone?“ his mother asked from behind, and coughed – sharp, cutting. He didn’t answer, pulled one of the stools toward him and sank heavily onto it. The coffin swayed threateningly, and he propped it with his knee, glancing in alarm at the dead man, who had…

Beyond the ruined Ghost Park, the Ghost Forest has changed once again.