WHITESLEEVES A. had decided to wear a white shirt, although black befits a funeral, they say, for you cannot be wistful in white, yet A. knew how to weep in a white shirt. Through the droplets of fog on the... Continue Reading →
Nisam htjela to da vidim, ali, eto, popriječilo se kao gorki, nesažvakani, nezreli, pomalo kvrgavi badem u grlu suhom, presuhom za pričalicu. Gledam ja to u oči, onako iz dubine, kao u šahovskog protivnika hladnog, ali saosjećajnog. Šta li je... Continue Reading →
