Dan BanuAwoo, he howled. Awoo, echoed back. His house was an empty shell. Like his life. Like his body. He never knew how to hold on to anyone or anything. His relationships flared like match flames: a groan of bodies, a burst of fire, complete combustion to ash, then darkness. And dust. A dog knocked over a trash bin, …
Stiripesurse.ro
Real Fiction / Dan Banu, Caterina Tudorache, Paul Dârvariu, translated by Oana-Elena Dragnea: There Is Always Something Left to Love
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