Progressive culture since 1954
Here it begins: Falid’s wife is Alexandra. She dies in the river. The river is dull. Its current is not too strong. I hear at the women’s meeting that no-one blames the river, no-one blames Alexandra. But this happens, still. She dies in the river and it is a beginning. Ounya is Falid’s daughter. She is born by Alexandra. She is hit by a truck after six years and this is where it ends.
Cover Interior
The old man would give you a flogging for a lot less than dipping into his stash. Not that I’d ever wanted to touch dope. I’d sworn myself enemy to all things that made him who he was, dope being a great contributor. But down behind the shed, where the long grass scratched my shins, I clipped off a decent chunk. The buds felt like furry balls of cotton. I zip-locked it and stashed it down my jocks.
My lipstick is sticky from the heat. It slips over my lips too quickly, forcing me to scrape the edge of my mouth with a fingernail to remove a smudge. My sister Anička frowns when she sees me. ‘What are you planning to do? Flirt with them until they agree to leave our country?’