Poviedky

Usmievavé oči, časť 3/3

Keď sme sa večer vracali domov, akoby odnikadiaľ medzi nás prišlo nejaké zvláštne napätie. A nie prvý raz. Bolo to všade. Cítil som to na jej dlani, na bruškách prstov, videl som to v jej chôdzi, pohľade, počul som jej ho v hlase.

Usmievavé oči, časť 2/3

Veľmi živo si pamätám chvíľu, kedy som ju videl po prvý raz. Kráčala dva kroky predo mnou v červených šatách. Je to zvláštna spomienka, iná ako ostatné – zmes farieb, vôní a zvukov, tak neurčitá a zároveň tak jasná, že hoci je ťažké ju vystihnúť slovami, jej obraz je stále neskutočne plastický.

Usmievavé oči, časť 1/3

Mala usmievavé oči. Keď som včera vyšiel von a nadýchol sa jarného vzduchu, oblial ma pokoj, jemný a hebký ako pohladenie po vlasoch. Naplnil ma úplne celého, cítil som, ako ho vdychujem a ako sa vo mne rozpína. Bol všade. Levanduľová vôňa ma šteklila pod košeľou a ja som podvedome predlžoval kroky tak, ako to robím vždy, keď sa cítim dobre. Slnko mi svietilo rovno do očí, ale vôbec mi to nevadilo. Práve naopak, pomaly som ich zatváral a zhlboka som sa nadýchol. Cítil som sa živý.

The Time Is Up

The time is up. Now has come the moment everybody keeps referring to as future. There is no future. There is no not now. There is the present, the heat of the moment, or nothing. Void. Darkness.

An Ordinary Morning

It was an ordinary morning. I opened my eyes and saw the bright light ray strips on the ceiling as they were penetrating the window blinds. I felt good. I stretched my body and pushed away the blanket.

Zmysel života

Už veľa ľudí sa zamýšľalo nad zmyslom života, nad tým, čo nás stále ženie vpred, nad tým čo je to, čo nám bráni obesiť sa na opasku na najbližších toaletách. Ja nebudem ani prvý ani posledný.

Reckless

Back at high school, we had this teacher who just ignored everything but herself. She didn’t accept anyone not having their day, being distracted or tired, or even sick. “That’s not my problem.” – she used to say.

Sunlight Gone

The music was pouring throughout the apartment. I was lying on my bed with my arms stretched wide and the silhouettes of my surroundings were my only company. It was dark. Only the blue light of a distant lamp cast shadows on the bedroom floor.

After the Night

The sun was setting down as I opened the door wide and stepped out onto the balcony with a glass of water in my left hand. The air was pleasantly warm and everything around had an orange tint from the weak sunlight that was still left above the city horizon.

Fire and Bullets

Once I heard a story that pilots carry guns so they can shoot themselves if their airplane catches on fire. Since the flying school, I’ve been taught that fire is the thing I have to be afraid of the most. I have had friends who were killed by fires, and indeed, most of them did shoot themselves prior to being swallowed by the flames.

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