I’ve been translating the work of Ukrainian writer Andrei Krasniashikh for many years, so when Russia invaded his country, I immediately starting translating his urgent dispatches from an occupied city:

Mom doesn’t hear well. But the explosions she hears. Even when there are none.

When there are no sirens and no blasts, we do what you’re not supposed to: make plans. How we’ll go to Figurovka. Figurovka, outside Chuhuiv—it’s been destroyed already.

Read the second and third installments over at LitHub.