Anastasia Stratu
Bio
I was born. I live. I will be gone someday.
That's the biography of anyone, but oh, how many wondrous happenings and adventures hide in the subtext of these humble lines!
I hope my potential readers will find my tales captivating. Thank you.
Stories (3)
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The Thorny Rose of House Drăculeşti
The Vassal The sultan’s turban, an imposing confection of white silk, emeralds, and ostrich feathers, swayed slowly as Fatih was nodding, deep in thought. Radu waited, his eyes fixed on the gems arranged in elaborate patterns, for he could not bear the basilisk stare of his overlord. But the sultan was in no hurry to pronounce his decision.
By Anastasia Stratu5 years ago in Futurism
Saved by the Stem Cell
Post-breakup Soviet Union countries were not exactly what you’d call a land of plenty. When people struggled to survive, wondering how to put their next meal on the table, such things as teenage body care were simply nonexistent. I remember what a revelation hair conditioner became for my mother and me, when we first bought a bottle. It was, I think, 1995, and we couldn’t stop singing hosannas to the newfound smoothness and manageability of our hair. I still remember it. Purple, lilac-scented, under some obscure label… but forget hair conditioner – we were grateful to have running hot water in the house, which we didn’t have when we first moved to the little suburban village where my parents still live today.
By Anastasia Stratu5 years ago in Blush
