One hundred stories written in prison in Belarus in 2021 awaiting trial. While the futures of fellow prisoners hang in the balance, every detail of life is important: from the steps of the cockroach to the snores of cell mates. 

Maxim Znak's message is that wry humour and humanity trump the cruel absurdities of the regime [...] These stories, one hundred of them, none longer than three pages, have echoes of early Chekhov, Zoshchenko and Samuel Beckett and, ultimately, of Giovanni Boccaccio and Vernon Kress, who used the punning title for his 1991 novel of the Gulag.  - Michael Pursglove     The fact that this book exists at all should be a miracle. Simply because the stories were smuggled out … The true sensation, however, is the mental achievement the prisoner Maxim Znak was capable of: that in his situation, which could really be called hopeless, he still possesses the internal freedom to create literature. - Cornelia Geissler, Berliner Zeitung     [Znak] uses the weapons that dictators like Lukashenko detest most: humour, wit, publicity. - Jens Uthoff, taz.die tageszeitung     It's a terse account of painful experience, prison, bewilderment; hugely atmospheric and extremely funny – full of dry wit and small biting observations. - Anna Vaught

1 . Law Court He was transferred here and then transferred somewhere else. That’s how they all come and how they all go. He’s got nineteen springtimes behind him, and he might have another eight winters ahead of him. It’s quite a lot, but then it’s no more than what a lot of people get. Oh yes, and he didn’t deserve to end up inside – that’s what they all say. He wasn’t yet tired of telling everyone how unjust the world was, how the system is the same everywhere, how it’s not worth hoping for a not guilty verdict. Surprisingly enough, there were listeners who would nod their heads sympathetically, and occasionally interrupt with stories of their own that had been told thousands of times already. This probably had some sort of soothing effect.  “What is there to count on in the court room? What the prosecutor asks for is what they’ll give you, who’s going to try to work out what’s right?” “No, they almost always give you less than what the prosecutor asks for, don’t fib.” “Maybe they do, but not by much. The main thing is they’ll never find you not guilty! They won’t even listen. “It’s not so much not listening, they won’t even hear. And of course, there’s no chance of being found not guilty Then he said something unusual: “Never mind. I’ll appeal to the international court!” “Which one?” “I’ve got it written down somewhere…”  “So tell me, which one? I’m only a lawyer, I thought we hadn’t ratified anything.” “I can’t remember offhand. There was this category A bloke with me when I was being transferred and he wrote down for me what court to write to. He says it’s been tried and it works.” “The Hague, perhaps? But we haven’t signed anything… Or Strasbourg? Although we haven’t signed anything there either.” “No, it wasn’t them places. It was something else.” “Well then, have a look. Maybe I can write, if it's a dead cert we're going to get somewhere.” He put a hand into the bag where he keeps all his stuff and rummaged around in the depths until he found a scrap of paper torn from a legal document. Between the lines setting out the judgement against him there were three words written with flourishes, but somewhat sloppily: the name of the court to which he was advised to appeal -- Lynch’s Law Court.