The Babayaga and the Boy (Short Story)

Another twig inserted onto his flesh. The boy removed the object trivially and continuously ran as though life would be ripped away at any given moment. Not a single second was dedicated to stopping track among the dense woods. “Come out guys!” screamed the boy in a hoarse voice. Then, the running suddenly stopped. Continue reading “The Babayaga and the Boy (Short Story)”

What’s the Point of Old Age?

I once had the chance to attend this get-together of people in the age range of twenty-five to twenty-eight. One phrase kept on creeping in that evening. “We’re so old!”

Old? Excuse me. For me, being old meant being close to death as a result of the body slowly crumbling from the passage of time.
Continue reading “What’s the Point of Old Age?”

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