Sep 17, 2014 by Qristina
My memories are punctuated by hoof beats and silence. Some things I’ll never forget, no matter how much I want to, their...
Sep 11, 2014 by Qristina
My words are broken, tumbling from my lips like shattered teeth or maybe rotten apples thrown too far from the tree. e phabaj či...
Sep 9, 2014 by Qristina
I was betrothed at age 12 to a boy called Petru. He smelled like old clothes and wet dirt and had eyes the colour of smoke. I...
Aug 27, 2014 by Qristina
Our language is like a flock of magpies, gathering up glittering orbs of curiosity along the way, zmrzlina, škola, Indija .. foreign...
Aug 12, 2014 by Qristina
I haven’t written here for a few days. Honestly, August 2nd and all of the media surrounding it, really took it out of me. As a...
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