Download Best European fiction 2014 by Drago Jancar & Dalkey Dalkey PDF

By Drago Jancar & Dalkey Dalkey

Yr 5 of the easiest ecu Fiction sequence brings one other crop of state of the art brief tales from around the continent. From Belarus to Wales! Translated from greater than 25 languages and highlighting the long run luminaries and revolutionaries of overseas literature. fanatics of the sequence will locate every thing they have grown to like, whereas new readers will become aware of what they have been missing!

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12 months 5 of the simplest ecu Fiction sequence brings one other crop of state-of-the-art brief tales from around the continent. Read more...

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After the show, a limo driver called out to him in a familiar way and Benjamin understood that this was his personal chauffeur. He treated Benjamin like an old friend, politely inquiring whether the opening was as successful as the year before. He drove Benjamin to a beautiful house, grandiose with its Greek columns and Gothic arches, facing the Atlantic Ocean. Inside, the servants had already kindled a fire in the fireplace. They referred to him as “Mister Benjamin,” and he replied in perfect English, though something told him that it wasn’t his first language.

And you know what? A loser like you can never get laid. ” The sergeant raises his fist. I run up and kick him in the balls. He doubles over, and the rest of the cops pile onto us. We’ve got nothing to defend ourselves with—no sticks, not even anything we can dismantle, like a fence or some concrete. We dash into a nearby courtyard. Riot police with clubs are already charging out of their bus—at last it’s their hour. They’ve just been sitting there, bored, and now they can wave their clubs around and break a few ribs.

What was he good for but watching movies anyway? He didn’t fit in. He couldn’t play along. No great loss, that one. Years later, and did anyone still care about the mystery of Benjamin Zec? Perhaps only his swaybacked mother, who still kept watch over the canopy of wild chestnut trees, and with her bare hands dug up primroses . . Time dripped into gutters of oblivion. Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick . . Drop by drop, Benjamin’s mother drank rainwater from the gutters and sadly chewed cherries every late July .

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