Masks E-Book

Mariela

• Herausgeber: Europa Edizioni
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

Having lost Ina to cancer, Villi confronts memories linked to their life before and after Bulgaria’s transition to democracy in the 1990s.
Will he overcome the fact that their son is addicted to drugs?
El, their daughter, is overwhelmed with emotion in the face of the tragedy in the family. What is her and her family’s role in moving forward? 
The accelerating deterioration of Bulgaria-Türkiye relations
in the Eighties and the resistance of the ethnic Türks in Bulgaria
deliver a blow to national security and the political system. How does
this subline interact with the main story line?
The author creates insight into the minds of her characters and endeavours to balance shifting perspectives, dramatic irony,
suspense and action.

Mariela was born in Sofia, Bulgaria. She graduated in English and Bulgarian philology and EU Law, International Finance and Relations. She has lived, worked and done research in Luxembourg, Belgium and Greece. She has been named in the first Global Diversity list of The Economist for her work in the sphere of human rights and social inclusion and has contributed to The Parliament magazine. She is a former member of the European Parliament and member of Pen International Women Writers’ Committee. 
She is active in swimming and jogging and takes part in global initiatives to raise funds. One of them is Theirworld, Your Walk, an initiative to raise funds to help every child have a safe place to learn.

Leseprobe

Mariela

Masks

© 2022 Europe Books| London

www.europebooks.co.uk | [email protected]

ISBN 9791220131971

First edition: January 2023

Masks

To Toni Stefanov To my beloved parents, brother and relatives

Inspired by true events

The snowstorm tramped its way into the city. The buildings turned into pieces of ice art. The trees bent over, like stalks of grass. The wind howled around every corner. Street dogs barked madly, feeling helpless. People trapped by the snow scurried to find their way out.

A man was fighting against the speed of the wind; it cut furrows into his face. His eyes were bloodshot, and his tears froze. Wrapped up in a dark grey parka, he hurried homewards.

If I keep this pace, I’ll never make it home, he thought. He leaned his weight forward to better help his way into the storm.

At the entrance of a dilapidated block of flats, he took a final look behind him. The city’s been buried under the snow, the man thought.

Now home, he slowly took off the hooded parka.

Graying hair framed an oval face and a balanced chin. Deep in thought, he headed towards the kitchen. It was time for the afternoon tea from fresh mint leaves.

He stared out of the window. His legs felt tired. He would have liked a nap, but he didn’t wish to have a rest just yet.

You’re not tired, he told himself, but he felt close to the end of his tether. He let himself slip slowly on the folding chair.

I can’t repair what’s been done. I can’t live with this shame either, he thought.

Everything had succeeded like clockwork.

Until that day.

Villi scrolled through his memories. Her face, the exchanged glances and words, the intimate episode - everything was there, ready to be replayed…

-You bring real joy in my life - Villi smiled at her. A bitter smile. His face gave everything away.

-I love you so much - she whispered, and her face lit up. -But you’re looking troubled, my love. What’s bothering you?

His wife looked deep into his hazelnut-coloured eyes.

Ina, resembling a porcelain figurine, nestled into his embrace. The mix of pinkish tones and warm touches of mahogany in the sitting room gave a hint of modern romance.

-We have to see the doctor tomorrow. I’ve made arrangements - Villi said in a trembling voice.

She didn’t ask him anything. She already knew about the outcome.

***

The whistling kettle brought him back to reality. A clap of thunder caused car alarms to go off. The thin porcelain tea bowl Villi was about to fill broke into pieces. It was a family souvenir passed down through the generations.

My day keeps on getting ruined, he thought and slowly headed towards the living room.

He lit the scented candles surrounding Ina’s portrait on the writing desk and sat down at one end of the sofa. His eyes looked so sad against the glow of candlelight. Oh, my love, you appeared in my life as a miracle. It disappeared with you.

He loved walking back in time: Ina was just 20 when he met her in July 1963.