Short Story

As the city bus passes, he steps off the curb and crosses just behind the huge vehicle. The bridge ahead glistens faintly under the streetlights, a thin mist rising from the canal below. Across the street, he turns left, and quickly paces into the city’s still sleeping heart.

It’s the early 1990s when I meet Joey at a birthday party. He has a flashy job title and works at a large corporation. I, by contrast, am just starting out as a solo-entrepreneur. I’m young, inexperienced, but full of energy. I see endless of opportunities but also face many challenges.

Short story Early on a September morning, Lior cuts through Volkspark Friedrichshain on his way to Ding Dong Ping Pong. The air carries the scent of rain on stone, and faintly, children’s laughter drifts between the trees. Sunlight brushes lightly over leaves and flowers, promising another warm day.

“Uzbekistan? But that’s not very close, is it?” I hear myself asking the question, while I try to pinpoint the country on the world map that I envision in my head. So there is Armenia, then we have the Caspian Sea followed by Kazakhstan with a bunch of countries to the south and east.