Eszter Bencsik

Selected notes from the past few years featuring Cohen

I woke up late. Looked out the small window overhead. The lights of the chapel on the other side of the driveway shone in through the heavy snowfall but it was dark otherwise.

Janek

Youth. The word flickered through my mind unexpectedly, violently, as I watched Magda cross the bridge and approach me, her open coat flying behind her.

55 Harlowe Street

Ave Éva

The inevitable shame of not smelling smoke anymore

The retelling of my brief encounter with God on the 26th of September, 2016

Margit