The wind screams through the pickup. It tosses rusted bolts, fence wire, wrenches, and Sike’s feed bowl about the cargo bed with alarming ferocity. Nina rubs flints of plywood and sheep hair from her watering eyes. She grips Sike’s collar with one hand, the wheel with the other. The pair pop up and down in their seats as the chassis rocks over potholes. The wheels crush agates and quartz rock. The sky turns inky purple, and lightning flares about the clouds. Oddly, there is very little rain.
Read MorePrompted
Albert is reading his writing. God, I don't think I can make it through. Albert likes to write about light through a window. Bowls of fruit. The wings of a bluebird. I don't think I can take it anymore. He shakes like a dildo while he's talking.
Read MoreCafe Shevchenko
Synopsis: On the eve of the invasion of Kharkiv, a cafe owner fights to keep her restaurant open against all odds. 15 min read time.
Ivan peers into the cafe window. In the display case, which faces the windows, and sits next to the antique cash register on a counter in the back of the cafe, are rows of varenyky; cherry pops of red raspberries top a fluffy star-shaped strudel, a sprig of mint on top. Next to the varenyky are rows of syrniki, miniature pancakes with assorted berries. The nutty smell of coffee wafts about.
“Are you open yet?” Ivan mouths against the window.
Read MoreAlbert Einstein's Secret Side Hustle
“I only believe in opinions that are born of the empirical world.”, said Albert.
“Well, empirically, your phallus is pendulous,” said Madame Muller.
“Yes, I accept that as a supposition. But it only exists at the moment. Time is fluid and depends on many variables. There could be a change in circumstance.”
“With your phallus?”
“Yes.”
“Could that change happen now?”
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