“Perhaps he’s gone crazy, it occurs to me. Or have I gone crazy? The inspector inside me applies her most powerful lever – my conscience – but I can no longer weep. Even my tears are stuck somewhere beneath my eyelids.
I’ve been living on the trolleybus for two weeks now. The passengers are peculiar. The man I silently sent to hell because of his ringing cell phone always greets me with a friendly smile. He’d been on this course, too.”
From the short story “Slow Walking Course” by Slovak writer Uršuľa Kovalyk and translated by Julia and Peter Sherwood. This story is being published in B O D Y for the first time in any language, not having appeared in Slovak yet. So readers of Slovak who want to experience it in the original first don’t press the link, or after pressing it close your eyes.
In Afterwords on Monday there will be an interview with the writer and more.
Read more Saturday European Fiction
Photo – Uršuľa Kovalyk
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