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Author Archives: freelander
Slavic soul
[:en]At times, there is nothing like three friends chatting over a few beers… My companions were fascinating, though they could hardly be more dissimilar: Roman, tall and corpulent, was a bachelor in his full forties, an intelectual, well cultured, the … Continue reading
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The map of sorrow
. It’s a chill and sunny November morning of a slavic capital. His gloved hands seeking for shelter in the pockets of the worn-out coat, the man wanders along the wide avenues of magnificent Stalinist architecture, his head hanging down, … Continue reading
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Andreievski
. Estación de metro Contractova Ploshcha. Se trataba de explorar el barrio de Podil: una docena de amplias calles en trama cuadrangular, flanqueadas por edificios que en su día debieron ser elegantes y que ahora, salvo algunas excepciones, presentan un … Continue reading
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The change
. The mashrutka was, as usual, crammed with people. No way to get to the driver and pay. ‘What’s the fare?’, I asked to my young, pretty and kind travel mate for the occasion. ‘One seventy five’, she said. I … Continue reading
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Who says..?
. The Polish-Ukrainian border of Hrebenne is only meant for road traffic; it can’t be crossed by pedestrians. Therefore, the traveller who wants to use it must get on board some motor vehicle before entering the restricted area. When I … Continue reading
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Sensuality
. True sensuality is free from external accesories. “Erotic” complements, “sexy” garments and the like, are meant for those who lack a natural lewdness. Real prurience rises spontaneously from our entrails, driving our behaviour; it doesn’t need to be–no: it … Continue reading
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The three loves of Notre-Dame de Paris
(The notes you’re about to read have been written considering the characters as they’re shown and pictured in the musical theatre “Notre Dame de Paris” which opened in Paris in 1999. As I haven’t seen or read any other versions of the … Continue reading
The dress
. He comes back in and, on closing the door, shows me a glossy purple neckerchief that he produces from his pocket, and a small parcel wrapped in the paper of the same shop whose numbered perfume he likes me to … Continue reading
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