The wars in the Balkans are over but what remains are the stories that nobody has yet written, faces that we no longer remember, dust to which people whose names have been forgotten have returned. This is what the main character in the novel Bread, Dust wants to redress; filled of a sense of guilt that his family had not given enough help to relatives from the war-torn areas, he tries to return the faces to the stories, even if it involves an unusual journey through Serbia and Bosnia at a time of record flooding. During this trip distant voices, some even from beyond the grave, find their way into the thoughts of the narrator, friends and family who with their stories weave a tapestry of a melancholic post-war landscape. Like any good novel, Bread, Dust, speaks of love and death. Just as it seems that the cold dust of oblivion is about to settle over all the protagonists, it turns out that there might still be atonement through memory and warmth which, like a piece of bread, you can offer to those close to you.