Read me

Viviana was dancing in the middle of the floor, for the benefit of all, but her eyes were on me. At the centre of my brain there was a little she-gnome, conceived purely by my own enchanted imagination, around which was slowly forming an envelope of love, of falling-in-love-ness, and this she-gnome was dancing to the rhythm of Viviana’s swaying. I was like a little boy watching the movements of his mother, suffocated by veneration...


Do Not Cross
Hai să furăm pepeni
Inaintea despartirii. Convorbire cu Saul Bellow
Tache de catifea
Circul nostru va prezinta:
Cronicile genocidului
Deplasarea spre rosu
Noua proze vechi. Fictiuni ilicite
parteneri parteneri parteneri parteneri

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