Everything is in flow
The small stream is at almost perfect standstill. There is an imperceptible movement somewhere, the water molecules are rolling downstream in slow motion. But to…
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The seventh sky
So many memories of looking at the sky. Up on the mountain, lying on my back and catching my breath after hours of hiking. There’s…
Silent streets
The city is still living its silent life. Still breaths its hidden breathing. Almost deserted.
The stories we tell ourselves: guilt
In Edgar Allan Poe’s story “The Tell-Tale Heart”, the narrator describes a crime he has commited, while attempting to convince the reader of his sanity.…
The stories we tell ourselves: fear
I’ve never experienced war. I was not targeted by political repression or terror, although I’ve seen it happening around me. I did sufficiently well not…
The reality of stories
In my native language, one standard formulation to start a folk tale is “There was, once upon a time, because if it weren’t we wouldn’t…
