Helena

Helena wishes she could smash open her world, like a ripe watermelon, or maybe a pomegranate, and watch it bleed into the rich black earth that had raised her, taking with it every rule and expectation that are making her life duller than the Danube snake, and twice as ugly.

But the provincial world is a tough nut to crack. And, just like the green husk on the freshly fallen walnuts, it leaves an indelible stain on anything it touches. Helena wishes this stain would go away, so she could finally embark on the quest for freedom, whatever that’s supposed to mean. All she knows right now is that there must be more to life than kicking up the small-town dust and getting in trouble for it.

This town is no place for a girl like Helena. She gets that, and so does Baba Lepa, the all-seeing eye with mythical origin and detached perspective on human affairs. With the Gods looking the other way, and her world about to become the wrong kind of war zone, Helena makes one last wish, then puts a match to it and watches it burn.