Lana V Lynx
Avid reader and occasional writer of satire and dystopia under a pen name of my favorite wild cat.
Charging Bull and Fearless Girl
It was only at night that the Charging Bull could get some rest from the crowds. He didn’t mind people, as they were coming from all over the world to see him, and he liked listening to them chatter in different languages. But he did get tired of them rubbing his private parts for luck. And lining up to do so, on his both ends: To take a picture with his face and to rub his balls. The night brought some relief, even though there were still some late-night wanderers approaching him, at least it was not a constant stream of people.
No Hope for Hope
August 8 is a sad date for me. On that day in 2000, our family friend with a beautiful name Nadezhda (meaning “Hope” in Russian) died a horrible and slow death. Five axe-cut wounds to the arms, chest, left shoulder, and a final blow to the neck from the back that broke her spine. The investigators said she was probably running around the house wounded trying to shield her two kids with her body. The murderer was more merciful to the kids, killing each of them with one hard blow to the head with the blunt end of the axe. The police never established if he killed the kids after Nadezhda or made her watch them die. According to the neighbors, who heard the screams and cries (no one came to help, but someone did call the police which was too late to arrive), the whole crime took about 30 minutes. Half an hour of horrible pain and agony for Nadezhda.
Knitting Is my Solace
I was a hyperactive child before the word "hyperactive" became a part of the everyday vocabulary. I also had a hyperactive best friend who I knew since we both were three. Together, we were a force of mischief and source of trouble for our parents. I can’t recall how many times our parents were summoned to the kindergarten and school because we always got ourselves into trouble climbing fences and trees, running away and playing outside into deep night when our parents gathered search parties for us. We both were doing very well at school, acing all subjects. "Such smart girls," our teachers would say to our parents, "studies come too easy for them and that’s probably why they get into so much trouble. Too much time on their hands. If only they could put their energy into something useful.”
Of God and Humans
God woke up, sat on the edge of his bed, pushed his feet into soft fluffy sleepers and dragged them into the adjacent room, wrapping himself into a plush bathrobe on the way. He so wished he could just sleep a little more, but this was a part of his daily routine and he knew what skipping it could mean for his charges: a disaster. As it happened many times before.
Soups of the World
Before the pandemic, I traveled a lot around the globe, both for work and pleasure. I’ve been to almost 30 countries and 150 cities of the world, many multiple times. Wherever I go, one of my favorite things to do is to sample local food, and soups in particular. I’m pretty adventurous with local cuisines: I would try anything once, even (or especially) if I don’t know of what the dish was made. My rationale is simple: If people have been eating something for centuries or even millennia, who am I to judge them? If I don’t like a food item, I will avoid it in the future but at least I’d know what it tastes like.
“Wha… is tha...?” asked the savage, pointing at Julia’s heart-shaped locket. Moments before, she stepped into the sunrays breaking through the dense Taiga evergreen pines, making sure the golden locket on her neck reflected the sunlight into the monster’s face to distract him. It did, as he stopped in his tracks from charging to attack Julia, blinded by the bright light and covering his eyes with his right hand. Julia noticed “AV-91” code branded on his arm. It should have also been branded on his forehead, but Julia couldn’t see it yet behind the mane of his dirty hair.