Old Stories, Old Desires I do not remember when I first began to wish that the mirror would answer. The impulse is so old that it is rarely experienced as a conscious desire — more as something inherited, a reflex of the imagination that we all acquire as we grow up and become…

My father, my most beloved Bulgarian, died a long time ago, on his feet. In this way he gave his sons a final – and perhaps most important – example, but that is not what I want to talk about. My old man, Mitko Enev, died trying to reach the top of the stairs, where an ambulance…

“No,” said the Girl, and there was a familiar note in her voice. Painfully familiar. “No parking!” “Keep off the grass!” “Occupied!” “Oh, come on,” thought the Boy – who by now wasn’t really a boy anymore, but a short-cropped, greying little man. “It was ‘no’ the other day, too,…

The Children of Hans Asperger Life with Autism: A personal Story Today I begin a story which I probably regard – quite justifiably – as the hardest and most painful in my life so far: the story of the birth and upbringing of our two children, Paul and Lea Enev. I spoke with all…