The March of the Dead

The car, a Renault, gave out and died about a hundred meters from the crest of a hill. The Translator, who was driving, muttered to himself ...

I hope you have not forgotten me, big brother. I haven’t written in so long, and all I can say is I’m sorry. Too much moving, too much chaos...

I circumnavigated the block four times trying to find the right address. On my third trip, I accepted that the old foundry was the building ...