SulZala

Sarah calls, during your lunch break, and you can't get any information out of her in between the sobs and stumbling over words that got stuck in her throat. Five minutes later you run into Hawa – your boss – who tells you to just go already. You take a cab. – The most startling thing is how small she looks, with the needles poking into her arm and the oxygen mask, strapped to the bed between sheets and cables and tubes, she heaves every breath and coughs and sputters and some more tears escape down the sides of her head. The nurse, Nina, bright mind, could be a doctor if she wanted, says they washed out her eyes, the redd

No matter where you travel, there is an old castle or old monastery jutting out from between the trees up the hill, stones coated in moss, but still standing. Sometimes, when the moon is waning, or when it’s full, you feel a cold draft and hear singing. This apple core has a name, and it’s not Griepsch. You do not know its name, but it’s not Griepsch. The october festivities are jolly, so jolly. This is not bavaria. And neither is it october. It’s march and you are starting to be concerned. You haven’t eaten anything but pretzels in months. Do not wear yellow near the canola field. Do not wear yellow near the

There is a bag of dice, wrapped in dark blue velvet cloth, that go from hand to hand, from dim taverns to a soldier's tent, aboard a merchant ship to a rich noble's house, from where they disappear one night and wander through back alley slums, clackering on muddy pavement, taking stops in children's games, until they're passed on. It is customary that the very last bet of the night are the dice. Whether you're down to your last shirt in the middle of winter, or won all the night's bets, whether you've collected the dice yesterday or have been carrying them with you in your bag for a month. They are made of bone, sometimes, from iron and wood