Starred water (a surrealist short narrative)

We were swimming next to the hot springs, but the sea was cold. The starry sky above us seemed ready to crack in the middle, throwing all possible parts of the galaxy right in the sea. I thought that there was definitely something wrong with this picture. But you did not seem to notice, so I just dived in again. The depths of the sea were warmer.

Once I got back on the surface I saw you laying on the water as if it were your bed, staring at the heavens – as if there were heavens. And then, taking me by surprise, the skies collapsed; starry bits falling in the sea lighting up the dark waters, thick black patches of matter following behind only to take the light off, starting over and over again.

We ran to the shore and clenched onto the sharp rocks, but it was too late. Now I had to tell you about all this. A dark patch fell from the sky right in my guts and devoured me. The edged rocks scratched my skin and only then you turned and asked:

“Why didn’t you say so before?”

“I couldn’t get the words right.”

“So, where are we going now?”

I looked again at the torn apart sky and my tearing apart skin. It seemed too late for everything, but did not want to tell you. Instead I replied:

“For starters let’s get back to the car.”

There was flesh melting off me and you had to help me stand. You walked for both of us. As we passed by the hot springs, I showed you the thin layer of ice that was already being formed on top, sparkling like diamonds.

“This is all wrong”, I said. “It was never supposed to be this way.”

And then, holding the last layer of my flesh from falling, you moved us forward and said:

“It’s not so bad. Now we will be able to ice-skate with a view!”

“Yeah, that’s true. But I think first I’d rather have a shower.”

As we were driving away from the scene, I turned one last time and noticed the liquid remains of what used to be my flesh, now being carried away by the wind, thrown far above the sea, above the moving us, above what had been yet sustained of the cosmos. There, blackcurrant splashes of matter spread irregularly and a reddish galaxy was born.

A bittersweet pain took over me and I eventually let go and fell asleep, the car speeding, distancing us from all this; all this that I never talked about.

{Photograph: Kipoi, Samothraki; September 2019}

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Έγκλημα στη Σαμοθράκη

Συγκλονιστικές είναι οι εξελίξεις σχετικά με το μέχρι στιγμής ανεξιχνίαστο έγκλημα στη Σαμοθράκη. Η σωρός του Μολδαβού επιχειρηματία βρέθηκε τελικά σε δύσβατο κομμάτι του βράχου Βρυχού, περιφερειακά του οικισμού της Χώρας. Η αστυνομία κάνει λόγο για δολοφονία, αλλά δεν έχει δώσει προς το παρόν λεπτομέρειες για τυχόν υπόπτους ή για τον τρόπο που αφαιρέθηκε η ζωή του θύματος! Ρίγος στην τοπική κοινωνία εν μέσω καλοκαιριού! Θα επιστρέψουμε κοντά σας μόλις έχουμε νεώτερα... Ο αστυνόμος Μακρής έκλεισε το ραδιόφωνο με αργές, σχεδόν θεατρικές κινήσεις. Όχι πως ήταν λάτρης του σανιδιού · μάλλον το αντίθετο. Τον επιβράδυνε περισσότερο η σκέψη της τελευταίας φράσης που άκουσε. Θα επιστρέψουμε κοντά σας μόλις έχουμε νεώτερα... Ήξερε τι σήμαινε αυτό. Το τηλέφωνο θα χτυπούσε σύντομα. Στην Αλεξανδρούπολη επικρατούσε πνιγηρή ζέστη. Ο απογευματινός παραλιακός περίπατος περισσότερο είχε αυξήσει παρά ανακουφίσει τη δυσφορία που ήδη ένιωθε. Βέβαια δεν ήταν μόνο ο καιρός. Στην πρα...

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Μετά τα μεσάνυχτα

Κι αν έρθει το φως αργότερα απ' το ξημέρωμα αν έρθει το φως και δεν είσαι εσύ μαζί του, τι φως σκοτεινό θα είναι αυτό; Γενάρης 2025, Αθήνα. Φωτογραφία: Σπιανάδα, Κέρκυρα, Δεκέμβρης 2024.

Safe place

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Στοές

Μια σπάνια παχύρρευστη ησυχία κουτρουβαλά τα σκαλιά της παλιάς πόλης · σα μουσική που δεν ακούστηκε ποτέ. Μόλις τελειώσουν οι γιορτές και πήξει το σκοτάδι θα πέσουμε στη χειμερία μας νάρκη. Και θα βλέπω πάλι σκιές γνώριμες να ξεπροβάλλουν από υπόγειες διαδρομές, και να χάνονται πάλι μέσα τους. “ Δε φταίει ο χειμώνας. Φταίει ότι στο τέλος του έχουμε ήδη μεγαλώσει.”* Κέρκυρα, Γενάρης 2025. * Ευριπίδης Κλεόπας, Ατέρμονη θάλασσα (2020), εκδ. Μελάνι.

Iranian auras

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Poetic Movements

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