Scott Stambach books

The Invisible Life of Ivan Isaenko

It is the second day of December. The year is 2005.   I The Anesthetization of Ivan Isaenko Dear Reader, whom I do not know, who may never be, I write not for you but for me. I write because I can’t sleep. I write because Polina is dead. Currently, I’m drunk from three capfuls of vodka on a three...