
Full Stop – Tamás Inczédy
Time-worn steps creaking beneath my hurried pace as I am rushing down the staircase of the apartment building with the kid in my arms, countless bags, stuffed animals, a nursing bottle, and dozens of whatchamacallits swinging from my fingers. For some reason the elevator had to be out of order this morning and I’m already terribly late. Undoubtedly the world …