Dennis Mombauer

Writer.

THE HOUSE OF THE DARK WHALE

15. September 2017

Our prison was the coast. The anchor was up at the end of the citadel as it slips by, and off we glided. Looking through the crevices is like thinking about an enigma. It was a cold palisade before you—and as the short northern day merged with the long grass of the steppe, mute with…

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Dennis Mombauer

Writer.

THE HOUSE OF THE DARK WHALE

15. September 2017

Our prison was the coast. The anchor was up at the end of the citadel as it slips by, and off we glided. Looking through the crevices is like thinking about an enigma. It was a cold palisade before you—and as the short northern day merged with the long grass of the steppe, mute with…

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THE FESTIVAL OF DISSOLUTION

„The Festival of Dissolution is coming to town, and just like in previous years, Franok is still too young to go. He and his friends know very little about the festival, only that it is in a clearing deep in the forest, only adults are allowed visit it, and there is a great tent in…
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THE BREEDING DUST (Podcast)

Narrated by Cheyenne Wright. „Silent, angular houses with white plaster, a sand-suffocated well and a couple of stunted palms huddled together on the low ground, a once bustling city that only the ghostly desert wind inhabited now. The sun gleamed down without mercy, hanging in the sky as a swirling ball that made the air…
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DAS MASKENHANDWERK

  „Es war, als wäre er in einem Alptraum aus Matsch und glitschigen Steinen gefangen, stets mit einem Ziel vor Augen, das er niemals erreichen konnte. In einer Höhle liegt ein Tempel, in einem Hügel liegt eine Höhle, in einer weglosen Wildnis liegt ein Hügel … war es zu sehr eine Legende, um wahr zu…
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DAS PROBLEM MIT GEWITTERN

„Es donnerte in der Ferne, und ein hauchfeiner Schleier aus Betonstaub rieselte von der Decke. Die Menschen, die in der U-Bahn Zuflucht vor dem Unwetter gesucht hatten, zuckten zusammen, und ihr Murmeln ersetzte das Prasseln der kleinen Regentropfen, die man hier unten nicht hören konnte. Leros sah sich um, blickte in fremde Augen, in denen…
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A PASSAGE OF TIME

„Oleska wakes up, and she immediately knows that her city has drowned. Dark currents flow through the corridors of empty offices, wash around cubicles and swell on the shores of ascending staircases. Cataracts plunge down elevator shafts into gargling blackness, feeding sub-basement oceans and crawl-space rivers. There are fish swimming here, a whole swarm, flamboyantly…
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UPPUMISE TUNNE (THE SENSATION OF DROWNING)

Translated into Estonian by Kristjan Sander „Ühel planeedil – maailmas – rändasid inimesed tasandikke mööda ringi, küttides ja söödavat otsides. Mõni neist leidis kohti, kuhu paikselt elama jääda, maad harida, jõgesid ümber suunata ja impeeriumeid rajada. Nende külakesed kasvavad linnadeks, nende linnad linnastuteks; ja aja jooksul sulab üha rohkem ja rohkem neist asustuskeskustest ühte.“ Published…
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