By Heidi Trautmann

You walk along a road, in a city, you ride in a subway, you sit in the hall of a hotel waiting, or you visit an exhibition…. Thoughts come rushing like stormy weather …no way to stop them…and one thought leads to another, deeper into the past, multiplying, becoming a net, endless, becoming a story. A piece of music hangs in the air… it reminds you of an event long ago. You meet people and something is familiar, making you smile or hurting, leading you away from reality, deep into the many layers of your own life, dreamlike. There is no reality, only impressions.

Nora Nadjarian’s new book with short stories, poetic and intense, they enter your skin, penetrate, take you through a vortex of emotions.

Exhibition: Chairs hang from the ceiling. They move themselves, not all the time, not all at the same time. So, it’s a bizarre effect when a chair, a wardrobe, a bed, seemingly decides to express itself. They hang by invisible wires from the beams and have pencils attached. ……Each one seems to have something to say: the longer you look at it, the more meaningful, the more insistent, the more enigmatic. The one that spoke to me was the piano stool, the round, wooden, swirling one……  and a flash of memory comes up then making connection between two layers of time.

Over the years we have often met, Nora and I, have exchanged thoughts and experiences. I have written about her books, her precious small books …The Voice at the Top of the Stairs…Cleft in Twain….25 Ways to Kiss a Man…..Ledra Street…..Girl, Wolf, Bones…. Now, the new one …Selfie.

Here a link to one of our encounters…

http://www.heiditrautmann.com/category.aspx?CID=6457137135#.WgkLd1WWaUk

To read Nora Nadjarian’s books leaves a delicate taste on your literary tongue.