Little Finger in the Wind

You barely rarely get to see this version of Los Angeles, not even in Bukowski's short stories. In Yelena Yemchuk's one, the slightest slice of LA sun is outshone by industrial landscapes, rusty iron beauty, filthy water and Harleth Kuusik as main and sole character around (you don't even imagine there is someone else sitting in the truck or hiding in the cars in background sipping some tedious budweisers from the can). This tale from newest Numéro is freed from failure and keeps your eyes turned on from page to page by the excessive quietness oozing from every image. No roasted skin, no bleached smiles, just some sullen pouts to break the silence and tune the mood. Last notice: the way she plays with her legs is just one unforgettable modeling moment.