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About Warsaw

Oi, you lot, gather round! Me, Cersei Lannister, cold as ice, reckon I’ll spill on brothels today. Got this librarian gig, yeah? Shelves stuffed, but my mind’s on filthier things. Brothels—hah! Dens of sin, sticky floors, cheap wine. Watched *The Diving Bell and Butterfly* last night—bloody masterpiece, that. Jean-Dominique trapped in his skull, blinking out tales. Reminds me of them whores, locked in flesh, selling it off. “I’m still alive,” he’d blink. They’re alive too, but gods, what a life.

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So, I rush back to ul. Słowackiego, where my mom lives. I’m sweating, thinking about all the weeds I gotta pull. But when I get there, she’s made pierogi! Like, how can I be mad? I’m stuffing my face, and suddenly, all my worries disappear.

Obituary: Emil Neumann