October 2019

Honey, I Killed the Cats

Dorota Maslowska (trans. Benjamin Paloff)

Whenever Farah and Joanne first came across . . . It had been April, or May even, difficult to state now, if you could undoubtedly nail it down going by their texts . . . They hit it well fatally from the comfort of the get-go, in addition they chatted all night, walking intently down and up Royal Barber Street, completely not capable of parting (“And you can get it, she had with this velour that is blue, anyhow, velour wears away fast.” “Speaking of blue, these blue sweats I’ve been using lately once I drive to yoga . . .” “Get away from city, i usually walk to yoga.” “we like walking generally speaking, however with an instant, springy action, never ever slowly.” “My nephew is extremely sluggish. We swear you’ve never ever seen an even more sluggish shithead.” “My nephew consumes every thing with ketchup. Can you picture? He’ll consume their cornflakes with ketchup in the event that you don’t catch him over time!”). And times that are however many seemed they’d go out of what to explore and therefore there had been nothing left to include, they might turn right around and locate a great deal to latch onto, no issue, one thing constantly happened to at least one or the other (“Unfortunately, ketchup is wholly carcinogenic.” “Speaking of which, my Aunt Albie has bone tissue cancer.” “Oh, the thing that is poor!