5/8 : radio

You were woken by the cries of seagulls circling above the neighboring house. A memory surfaces — so distant it feels almost imagined: a waffle cone with an enormous scoop of strawberry ice cream in your hand, old fishing boats rocking at the pier, a bandage proudly displayed on your knee after a tumble down the steep limestone stairs (was rushing to the pool really worth it?), a dusty little truc...

You see a large Labrador tied up at the entrance of a supermarket. He is anxiously waiting for his owner to return. For some reason, it reminds you of a summer day in the 90s: you and your mom were flying to the seaside, she asked you to watch the suitcases and left, disappeared into the crowd. People bustled noisily around you, an irritated female voice crackled over the loudspeakers, calling yet...

Apartment one hundred and thirty-fifth, seventh floor. Boris is hopelessly glued to the multi-colored Christmas garlands in the windows of the panel building across the street. He is mortally tired of the hustle and bustle of late December and has sinking deeper and deeper into memories of New Year's Eve of 1992. The dining table was set in the living room. The air smelled of boiled potatoes, ciga...

Apartment one hundred twenty nine, sixth floor. Zoya was about to leave the house when all of a sudden it hit her: how tired she was of all of this. Squeezing the last bits of toothpaste from a tube folded multiple times. Writing and deleting messages she desperately wanted to send. Walking along Shosseynaya Street on a winter evening, watching the dim light in the windows of the apartment blocks....

Central Clinical Hospital For a brief period around 2010, small flash mp3 players replaced cassettes as the preferred medium for mixtapes, and were often included in care packages sent to hospital patients. This iriver s7 mp3 player was found at the third entranceway of the Central Clinical Hospital on November 27.

Eighty-nine apartment, fifth floor. On his way home, somewhere between the 24-hour store called "The Elk" and the "Milana" hair salon, Ignat spotted a playing card with the queen of clubs lying alone on the pavement. Now he can only think about that loose black shirt with a bold deck-of-cards pattern that his mother’s friend, Uncle Slava, used to wear. All Ignat remembers about him: the gleaming g...

Lemonade Baby - 5/8 Radio #242 by 5/8 : Radio

Apartment 140, ninth floor. Yegor stuck his large shaved head out of the bedroom window. Low in the night sky, the lights of a plane were gliding by, and soon the familiar hum of jet engines would catch up. Yegor wished he could be there on board right now. And not flying to some far away place, but coming home. Fidgeting in a not-so-comfortable seat, waiting for the landing, and looking out of th...

Apartment 21, fifth floor. Gleb is washing a plate with a neat yellow rim. A barely visible steam rises beautifully from the hot water. The foam pleasantly runs down into the sink. For some reason, at that very moment, while looking at the steam, the foam, the shiny tiles of the kitchen backsplash, and his slouched reflection in the window, he suddenly remembered a story so old, it felt like it ha...

These yellowed plastic cassettes contain music that accompanied people's romantic experiences. This one was recorded in June 1996 in Porto. On that day, when it rained again, he waited for a bus for an hour, just to see it racing by with a glowing notice “fora de service”. He walked. Probably, it was an unknown to him local holiday, for on his way he couldn’t find anything open: no bakery, café, b...

Fifth apartment, second floor. Valya is hurriedly getting ready for going out to the bar. She's late as usual. Why is it today her hair is looking so messy, and her favorite longsleeve is so crumpled? It's unpleasant, but it wouldn't be an obstacle to have a drink. But only one glass… well, two at most. Tomorrow is Thursday after all. Out of the corner of her eye she notices the light of a dim str...

Только представь: жаркий июльский день, ты сидишь в любимом кабаке, вальяжно раскинувшись на старом стуле – тебе никуда не нужно. Планов на завтра нет (да и есть ли оно – завтра?), привычные тревога и беспокойство бесследно растворились, периодически возникающие на экране телефона уведомления совершенно тебя не волнуют, даже не хочется проверять, что там. Все, что сейчас по-настоящему важно – это...

Apartment 73, first floor. Valera lies in his bed, staring at the ceiling. His left leg is sticking out from under the blanket as usual. The scents of damp soil and lilac waft in from the street. The rain drums on the leaves of a young maple in the front yard. In that social network that Valera now visits only once every couple of months, a notification popped up about the birthday of someone he m...

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