One day

The crusty green paint on the bench revealed a delicate web of black cracks. An intricate pattern which resembled the lace of shadowy wrinkles on the old man’s face, as though the both of them had been resting there, in that park, for a little too long. His suit, old-fashioned and a little worn here … Continue reading One day

The Apple

[Scroll down or click here for Romanian.] Cydius always said that survival was a question of instinct. His was particularly keen. You'd often find him humming, immersed in a mystical frenzy: "I can feel The Apple, I hear it calling to me! Oh, 'tis close, my brethren, soon He will grace us with His all-enveloping … Continue reading The Apple