| Author: | Danilo Peshikan | ISBN: | 9781370931095 |
| Publisher: | Danilo Peshikan | Publication: | July 21, 2017 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords Edition | Language: | English |
| Author: | Danilo Peshikan |
| ISBN: | 9781370931095 |
| Publisher: | Danilo Peshikan |
| Publication: | July 21, 2017 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords Edition |
| Language: | English |
The Stranger, ‘what was he to me, this phantom enshrouded in visions, sinking further away as the years went by, deeper and deeper into a reality, which I could but hate? What did his appearances and exits forebode? I still do not know…
I would run into him on multiple occasions and in different circumstances. Besides, all these encounters coincided with major events of my life, though most of them had sunk into oblivion and now only his ghostly appearances on this stage, passing by and beyond, illuminate those rare moments.
‘Was he simply the good or the evil prophet? Even such discrimination was beyond my power to discern from the complicated night spirals he had woven into my path.’
‘The atmosphere in these stories is somehow reminiscent of Patrick Modiano – a fog in which every detail is distinct and crystal-clear, yet we have no idea where we are. And we wander and jostle against each other like in a crowded aquarium, making heroic existential efforts to find out how and why we are there, and who is watching from outside?’ – Literary Forum
The Stranger, ‘what was he to me, this phantom enshrouded in visions, sinking further away as the years went by, deeper and deeper into a reality, which I could but hate? What did his appearances and exits forebode? I still do not know…
I would run into him on multiple occasions and in different circumstances. Besides, all these encounters coincided with major events of my life, though most of them had sunk into oblivion and now only his ghostly appearances on this stage, passing by and beyond, illuminate those rare moments.
‘Was he simply the good or the evil prophet? Even such discrimination was beyond my power to discern from the complicated night spirals he had woven into my path.’
‘The atmosphere in these stories is somehow reminiscent of Patrick Modiano – a fog in which every detail is distinct and crystal-clear, yet we have no idea where we are. And we wander and jostle against each other like in a crowded aquarium, making heroic existential efforts to find out how and why we are there, and who is watching from outside?’ – Literary Forum
