Tuesday, January 3, 2017

BANYA

I pressed my back against the fence of the last house. The packed dirt road that circled the village glowed as if made of chalk. A ravine slashed through the field in front of me and flattened out as it reached the river. The moon, bright as a projector, illuminated the placid water surface and somebody’s log sauna, banya.

No dogs. No dead body.

SOUL OF THE UNBORN       ON AMAZON




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