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Motherdeath

Motherdeath - story

Michael Lentz

Mother disappeared on the twentieth of August nineteen ninety-eight at around eleven fifty at night. At around eight thirty in the morning of the twenty-first of August nineteen ninety-eight, Father called and informed me: ‘Mother…

The Song We Sang Every Day

The Song We Sang Every Day - story

Luciano Lamberti

My name is Tomás. I’m thirty years old. I live with my father. We’re two bachelors in a big house who run into each other at odd hours and treat one another with respect, but…

What You Looking at?

What You Looking at? - story

Tamar Merin

The light has turned green and my son shows no sign that he wants to cross the street. He won’t budge from the traffic island, his eyes squinting against the lashing sun, his hands on…

A Little Honey

A Little Honey - story

Jáchym Topol

Winter breathes its last gasp, leaving mounds of black ice and frozen chunks on the sidewalks. The sun occasionally climbs above the city now, edging across the glassy sky. The curtains here are always shut,…

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