Paul entered the back room with fury I could not only see on his face but also hear it, a sound of a swarm of angry bees, only more homogenous, more ominous. The dull hum of his anger morphed with the clamor of restless customers demanding their orders in the front of the shop. I … Continue reading Test from God
loss
As the Harlem morning broke
This morning, it could have been five or six, dawn was breaking, around that time when the light starts to change, I was jolted awake by the sound of a car crash. The violent smash of metal and glass and something terrifyingly organic threw me clear out of the molasses of fading dreams and bubbling … Continue reading As the Harlem morning broke
Tìortaidh
I watch him when he doesn't notice, as he plays video games, or types furiously on his phone, as he makes us tea, or talks to Sandra, or sleeps. I watch his face, his broad shoulders, his frown, his hearty laugh, his eyes. Oh god, those warm, wondrous, dark blue eyes where my comfort and … Continue reading Tìortaidh
Zedo, jedini u majke Mine Carove
Imo je 22 godine kad je odveden. Nit je kad zaplako, ni zapjevo, ni osovo, ni reko neću, ni ne mogu, nikome! Znao je sa svojim cikularom otići, po cijeli dan riže drva svitu, dođe i vako izvrne džepove i kaže - mati, danas nema ništa. Pa reko - sine, cijeli dan si se zabavio … Continue reading Zedo, jedini u majke Mine Carove
Nestajanje maslačaka
Zapis o nekada silnoj porodici Hodžić sa prijedorske periferije, na potezu izmedju Donje i Gornje Puharske, tamo gdje su se nekada ponosno uspravljala dva stoljetna hrasta.
Sudan Kuba, Trgoprodaja
Kakav Old Traford, kakvi bakrači. Stadion fudbalskog kluba “Trgoprodaja” bio je istinski teatar snova za sve nas hapce što smo odrastali na potezu od Tešinća do prvih kuća Gornje Puharske. Tu sam gledao svoju prvu utakmicu uživo, divio se paradama Dževada Delkića (koji će mi par godina kasnije krvnički zavrnuti uši kad sam mu ledenom … Continue reading Sudan Kuba, Trgoprodaja
Remember Me
"Remember Me" is a story of rememberance and loss, of poisonous legacy of enforced disappearances in my hometown of Prijedor. It is also the first documentary film made by my daughter, Azra.
Mrakovačka bb 