Dennis Mombauer

Writer of speculative and weird fiction, freelance editor and translator, co-founder of Die Novelle - Magazine for Experimentalism, years of theatre and media work.

A New Year!

7. January 2020

I know, 2020 is already old, on fire, and on the brink of World War 3: but I here comes my review of the year that just vanished into the fog. So, how was my 2019, especially in writing? For the first time, I set myself a daily target (1,000 words minimum) and stuck to…

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Dennis Mombauer

Writer of speculative and weird fiction, freelance editor and translator, co-founder of Die Novelle - Magazine for Experimentalism, years of theatre and media work.

A New Year!

7. January 2020

I know, 2020 is already old, on fire, and on the brink of World War 3: but I here comes my review of the year that just vanished into the fog. So, how was my 2019, especially in writing? For the first time, I set myself a daily target (1,000 words minimum) and stuck to…

Mehr Lesen

THE MELODIC TRAVELS OF A MAN SELLING LIVES

“Marcus smiled when he was happy and also when he was sad–he smiled when he made people laugh and when he made them cry. Every day at work, he changed people’s lives with a smile: when he sold them new costumes to slip into, consisting not of seams and fabric but of intangible concepts, of…
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DESCENT INTO THE ARCHIVES

“We require the Tirani correspondence from the archives. Do not open it. Do not read it. Bring it to us.” The instruction came from the fax machine line by line, accompanied by toneless buzzing. M. watched the paper, searching for a way to escape this assignment, but there was none. The instruction was in writing,…
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THE BEDFOLK

“an empty bottle blinks from the canal small people dwell in the murky water   at night they mend sandals and wash laundry gut fish and string up their scales they scrub the washrooms and pull the towels leave little gifts on the doorstep a bowl of milk for the disappeared rice and sambol for…
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THE GARBAGE MANDALA

“Irakov’s breath condensed in the air, barely visible in the traces of brightness that trickled down from the streetlights. The hours before dawn always seemed to be the coldest, perhaps because they were furthest from the sun, perhaps because the men themselves were still at their most vulnerable. “It’s some kind of mechanical device, like…
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ABERRANT FOLIATION

“The train stopped. Sanesh awoke with a start. His own reflection stared at him from the window. Blackest night reigned outside, and the jungle brushed against the carriage.“ Published in: Dark Moments, Black Hare Press, June 2019
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PHOBOSTEUS

“The curtain rose, and the first act began. Falb stood in one of the claustrophobic hallways of the cruiser, surrounded by other soldiers. The projection screens in the walls had come alive and commanded everyone’s attention. Falb took a deep breath and clenched his teeth. Until a moment ago, the screens had only shown star-speckled…
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