Shadows of Ourselves
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She appears only at dusk, leaving liquor and sorrow by the water’s edge, borrowing books she’ll never return, speaking in riddles about lanterns, chains, and things that are “partially too late.” She calls herself Ana. She looks like the love he lost. She feels like the madness he’s always feared.
As winter deepens and the humming in his walls grows louder, he must decide: is she a ghost, a hallucination, or the last living spark of someone who was never meant to be saved? And if he reaches for her, will he pull her out of the dark—or drag himself in with her?
A haunting, atmospheric descent into grief, memory, and the fragile line between reality and delusion. For fans of psychological literary fiction, slow-burn mysteries, and stories that leave you staring at the shadows long after the last page.
A quiet, devastating novel about two broken people who briefly become each other’s mirror, each other’s anchor, and each other’s final chance to feel something before the silence swallows them both.
For readers of The Bell Jar, A Little Life, and My Year of Rest and Relaxation — a story that hurts because it feels true.
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After being accused of using ‘a strange way of talking’ from people around him and a few facetious recommendations to write it down, he started writing lyrics, poetry, and short stories for himself. He was forced to interrupt his studies because of various issues and decided writing for therapeutic purposes. Almost 8 years later and after two published books, he realized that the Slovak language is very susceptible to dyslexia and switched to English.
I thought it'd be a good idea to make it by a poem, however it seemed like a good idea only when I was writing it. Anyway, I thought that ... it might not be such a bad idea.
