Moons ago, someone carved me a nickname into the sand. The tide came and swept my name away. That name was "Sputnitsa," which means "fellow traveler" in Russian.
The price of anything is the amount of life you exchange for it. ~ Henry David Thoreau
The Past Lives Here…
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Tag Archives: death
A decade ago, I opened up Long Day’s Journey into Night, but I never got past the introduction. There, I read of Eugene O’Neill’s youth, of his sailing the world and battling tuberculosis. This summed up everything that was wrong with me. I had never … Continue reading
In August 2008, the Russians invaded Georgia. This was not expected. I was there at the time. When the first explosions hit, my friend J texted from the US. “I think there’s a war going on.” “No, no. It’s just a … Continue reading
Vladimir Vysotsky was a poet, a singer, and an actor. He was one of Russia’s two bards, the other being Alexander Pushkin, the poet who is credited with reshaping the language itself. When Vysotsky died, the Soviets hoped his fame would too, but millions … Continue reading