A. Balla

“Motherland, Where Art Thou?” by A. Balla

Toska is a Russian word with no direct translation. It can best be described as deep spiritual pain and anguish. Existential suffering of the sort.In short, it is a feeling I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, except that they seem to wish it on me. Since the day the news broke of Russia’s declaration of war, my heart has known nothing but toska. I grew up in the Northeast region of Ukraine. My town was a short distance away from our pacifistic neighbour to the East - a few hours...

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“Snow in July” by A. Balla

Snow in July. You could suppose I live somewhere buried deep withing the Arctic North, where the sun only shines for a few brief hours of the day, if at all. And while I do, this was strange nonetheless. It was 15 degrees celsius in Reykjavík the day previous. I remember because it had been somewhat colder than yesterday - 17 the day before that - and no less than 14 the duration of the month befor...

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“You devil, you ” by A. Balla

Submitted to Contest #95

I opened my eyes halfway to the shrieking sound of my alarm. Everything was blurry. My eyelids felt heavy, obscuring my vision. A layer of saliva covered my dry cracking lips. I could barely carry the weight of my head as I lift it off the soft comfort of my pillow to grab a drink of water. As the cold water rushed down into my thirsty soul, it did little for my dehydration. I suddenly became very aware of my dreadful na...

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“Markus and a Billion and One Stories ” by A. Balla

Submitted to Contest #91

After all was said and done, Princess Amelie had an abundance of fond memories, memories of adventures she’d never forget. The End. What ensued next was nothing more than a pit of darkness for our dear friend Amelie. As the pages closed shut, it would be a while before they’d be opened again. It would be a while before new hands would clean the dust off the leather cover. A while before, new minds ...

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“Suburban Wonderland ” by A. Balla

Submitted to Contest #91

Enough billions to buy every island off the coast of Tuscany, perhaps…Millions maybe…I’d even settle for just the yacht on which I’d admire said islands.An unpredictable woman she always had been, my mother. Some found it endearing; I always preferred the term crazy. Nothing short of excited to see what she had left for me in her will, I sped through the potholed roads through acres of farmland. I hadn’t been back home since I’d turned 18, and I don’t think it will be hard for you to imagine why. M...

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