In recent years I have found myself increasingly confronted with an old yet stubbornly persistent way of thinking: the assumption that the oppressed are, by definition, right, and the powerful, by definition, guilty. One of my more recent exchanges on the Net brought this into…

My father – my favourite Bulgarian – passed away a few months ago, standing. In this way, he gave his sons the last – and perhaps most important – example of his life, but that’s not what I want to speak about here. Bai Mitko Enev died while trying to climb the steps at the top…

“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,…

In a house filled with broken toys and forgotten dreams, nine-year-old Anne — called Firecurl for the wild red hair she cannot tame — stumbles into a game far older, and far more dangerous, than it first appears. When a strange model landscape bewitches her and a storm of anger…