This excerpt is translated Spomenieš si na Trenčín? (Will You Remember Trenčín?) by Magdalena Mullek.
Lukáš Cabala was nominated from the 2025 European Union Prize for Literature for this novel.
The translated version is forthcoming with Seagull Books in 2027.
Finally it was the moment when she sat down and wrote a column. She had been putting it off for several days, and kept receiving emails from home. The editorial office was putting unobtrusive yet systematic pressure on her.
So I’m here. I wonder whether the sounds of water moving through pipes behind walls are as romantic back home as they are when you’re in a hotel or a rental in a foreign city. I’m staying a few minutes from downtown. The road crosses a bridge, and there’s a sidewalk along the river on a raised embankment. The castle flashes at night like a lighthouse on shore. Narrow streets wind beneath it. On my strolls I try to guess which places and buildings are iconic for the locals. I’m sure that over time I’ll figure it out.
Is it true for every larger city that conversations on public transportation are so extremely disconcerting? Tunnel lights flashed past the window, people sat calmly. Not far from me two women were talking. I couldn’t see their faces, but I could hear them well. And I’m never embarrassed to listen in.
“An unbelievable thing happened to me,” one of them said, “you know, my Muro-kami… he’s been acting strange lately. He just lays there as I wash the dishes and think about what to do next.”
The train began to slow down.
“All of a sudden the tomcat gets up and says…” before she could finish her story, she quickly collected her things, excused herself, and ran down the aisle to the end of the train car. From there she shouted to her friend: “I’ll call you, bye, I’m taking off!”
Then the door hissed behind her, and since I couldn’t see the stairs because of the reflections on the glass, I had a suspicion that she really took off flying.
It took everything I had for me not to turn around and stare at the woman who was still on the train. She didn’t even budge. She must have been used to such things.
Or she had reason to be apathetic.
As I was getting off, the woman next to me meowed.
This is exactly how I imagine a cosmopolitan city.
About the author: Lukáš Cabala lives, writes, and works in Trenčín, Slovakia. The author will be at the Exide Kolkata Literary Meet 2026 from January 22-26.
Excerpted with permission from Seagull Books.
