Often words swirling in my mind start lining up in portrayal of some past experience. With age reminiscences of happenings pile and pile till we get burdened by their weight. Then as from an automatic trash bin we send to oblivion the taste of calamites suffered, keeping in our memory just moments of happiness. I guess that’s why we more than often refer to the past as the “Good Old Times”.
I’ve had my piece of misfortunes, some winning hands too and still cannot judge on which side of the dial I should be. Till now I have not seen a complete loser or unfailing winner. When time comes to make the break down it is not always to our satisfaction. That’s why I like stories. Short or long, with a happy end or maybe not, they are self sufficient, sometimes amusing and there is always a moral to draw if you are in the mood for it.
Some pages will give you the taste of what life was in the East, behind the ”Iron Curtain”. Tell you what - we were very much alive.
The Devil's Curve
Cobblestone Impressions
To Elie
Bears Don't Read
A Guide To A Treasure