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Kala Alm*
Read more: Kala Alm*Panta începe abrupt. Mușchii se opintesc. Se contractă, se întind. Înaintez anevoios în sus: dreptul, stângul, dreptul, stângul… La fiecare pas, talpa bocancului scârțâie, alunecă puțin în spate în zăpada moale, aproape zloată. Lanternele rămân stinse. În albastrul de cobalt al nopții, doar stelele licăresc, neverosimil de multe. Când lăsăm în urmă ultima casă, ne…
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Winter trails (at the turn of the decade)
Read more: Winter trails (at the turn of the decade)Copyright A. Sepi 2019-2020. All rights reserved.
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48 Hours in London – Plus 3 Misconceptions Gone
Read more: 48 Hours in London – Plus 3 Misconceptions GoneThe graduation cap kept slipping off my head and the tassel was getting into my field of vision, occasionally blotting out important surrounding objects, like pillars or toilets. I couldn’t bend down, nod, or even glance at my phone. I was beginning to get an inkling into why all graduands look so dignified – standing…
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Italy. 15 hours near Pisa
Read more: Italy. 15 hours near PisaTo even consider a 15-hour drive (round trip) for a measly 15 waking hours in Italy, you must be pretty desperate. Not only did we consider it, we actually went. Three weeks of winter in the month of May, all hell breaking loose at work and a nasty throat infection did it. We wanted Italy.…
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Litoral final
Read more: Litoral finalmi-e sufletul greu, submers în stânjeni de fluid clar, oceanic, cu peşti. apa mării stă oglindă în dimineaţa asta fără adieri, luciul ei printre pini şi ambarcaţiuni e tras în foiţă de aur, iar tihna de început de lume a frumuseţii mă apasă cu desăvârşite sfârşituri. valul e ceva care îţi dă speranţa ciclicităţii,…
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Path through my childhood
Read more: Path through my childhoodI walked the winding path today around the apartment buildings right through my childhood. Everything smelled the same. The big white lilies gave off a fragrance of early evening, the sunset was in its incipient stages. The heat bearable, like me. Summer petering out. I leapt from one slab of stone to…
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The heart of summer
Read more: The heart of summer“The morning is full of storm in the heart of summer. The clouds travel like white handkerchiefs of good-bye, the wind, traveling, waving them in its hands. The numberless heart of the wind beating above our loving silence. Orchestral and divine, resounding among the trees like a language full of wars and songs. (…) Her…
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Writer Between Worlds 