The summer heat sprawls on my skin like a thick cover of wet glue.
(nonfiction)
Category: Dispatches from Ukraine
She returned home when her village was liberated after six months of occupation. Her house greeted her with a collapsed wall.
(translations)
There’s joy on Easter, and that joy lasts a long time. And Lent, it’s not about food, it’s about self-sacrifice, humbling yourself before God. You’re saying, You’re the big guy. I’m the small guy.
It doesn’t matter which language you speak, because language does not influence your way of thinking.
When my family was escaping, my great grandmother saw that all of the grain that was collected from them was being thrown in the sea.
The older generation of course, they didn’t teach their kids about the horrors of Stalin, because they didn’t want them to have that memory.
(Dispatches from Ukraine)
There was an air alarm, so an ambulance couldn’t get to us and bring this child to the hospital, so we decided to treat him right there.
(Dispatches From Ukraine)
I told my wife I was opposed to leaving Vinnytsia. She said, What happens to you, happens to me.
(Dispatches from Ukraine)
Now I remember it like a dream, but it was terrible.
(Dispatches from Ukraine)
Grigor, as everyone who met him agrees, had been dropped on his head as a baby. Or else nursed on straight vodka.
(fiction)
We were excited to go to Ukraine
because we were promised a disco night in Donbas organized by a local Young Pioneer
group, a junior division of the Communist Party.
(nonfiction)
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