An American Saga Set in Kyiv
The air high above is all dark. But blinding light takes hold over the boxing ring below. Wooden chairs crowd in around the roped-off square. White faces rise up in…
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‘“Here’s the money. Don’t wander off. And be sure you aren’t short-changed… for the love of Job.” ‘The Ferret, still a boy of less than 12, and dressed as one…
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The eyelids withdraw to disclose two sea-blue pools, each with a tiny pupil adrift, struggling in the morning light to enlarge, focus in on and transmit to John Smith’s mechanical…
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The lamp burns yellow. And a patch of soft light warms the shadows below it, as these would otherwise devour the kitchen tabletop on which the lamp stands, holding to…
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Exactly 27 years ago to this day, in a ninth-grade English composition class at the Brooklyn School of Scientists, the following essay was submitted in completion of a routine writing…
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The curtains are drawn to reveal a tangle of soiled and sodden bedding that is Dirk Dickerson’s funeral pyre. The Half Guinea stands at the opening of a sterile white…
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Note: The following 10 pieces were salvaged from a garbage can in the offices of Kyiv Unedited during the operation to collect, retrieve, and permanently preserve “The Kyiv Commix” before…
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There’s something rotten in Kyiv. And it’s not the carcass of one of the city’s countless stray dogs on some forgotten footpath. A far more dangerous creature has made its…
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Oh, yes sir. But I was only saying – Never you mind what you was just saying, and you have got!, and I repeat, being incapable of being more emphatic,…
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“O, you people, gather round heya! I say! Gather round, gather round! “That’s right, don’t be shy; Boss Lard ain’t gonna hypnotize you or put you unner his spell or…
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