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Is this thing on? Is it working?

Yeah? So I just... I just speak to the… okay.


Luca Zedda hails from the desolate wastelands of eastern Europe, also known as Poland. A writer of genre fiction, he was tainted with the corrupting touch of sci-fi and fantasy at the tender age of… well, quite early on, I don’t remember the exact details to be honest. To make things worse, he lately developed an appreciation for horror, which might become somewhat evident after the next few pages.

He writes mainly short stories, most of them indeed horror and fantasy, but also comedies and examples of magical realism. He often explores themes of subjectivity, morality and religion. He’s also apparently guilty of indulging in overly-opinionated narrators – not that I would know anything about that, of course. 

Sooo, yeah, that’s it. I think. Yeah? 


Woah. Now that was just horrible.


Lucas Zedda’s chilling short story, ‘Last Days of Narash’ creeps along the spine. The horror is graphic, yet the moral undertones and the probing questions surrounding human subjectivity are sublime.

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I was on the way back to Narash when he arrived. We were returning from the fields, my sister Mereth and I. In the bags on our backs we had the yields, the wheat, the rye, the barley, for it was summer and the time of harvest. Beneath mine I had a fresh head of lettuce hidden, one that Mereth stole from old Kin-arat – for we knew he was wealthy and alone, and would not miss it. By the entrance to the village we stopped, at the altar of our forefathers. We recited their names and we placed the first ears of grain at its feet. I elbowed Mereth as she giggled, distracted, for Therash, the young son of the huntsman sat nearby and whistled a tune. I would have to speak with his father, I thought, for with our parents gone it was my duty to be my sister’s matchmaker. 

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