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Spume on the Sands of Acre

Spume on the Sands of Acre - story

Wisam Gibran

Here, people are only observed by the eyes of the night watch. The walls of Acre have not yet been completely built. Nor its lighthouse that looks over the sea to the west. The stones…

In Praise of the Hurricane

In Praise of the Hurricane - story

Alejandro Morellón

I’ve always enjoyed everyday violence. I remember one incident in particular: broken glass in the dark. I’m not certain that it’s a real memory but when I relive the scene, I find it hard to…

Black Cats

Black Cats - story

Samir Salmi

The Imam’s words to me at the entrance to the mosque that night were strange and dramatic. He said that a pack of ferocious black cats had attacked the district and was destroying everything it…

The Shoe

The Shoe - story

Hisham Naffa

I had headed out to buy a pack of cigarettes and a few tomatoes, and there was a black shoe in the entrance to the building. A black shoe, just one, on the second tile…

The Universe of Things

The Universe of Things - story

Gwyneth Jones

The alien parked its car across the street and came and sat down in the waiting room. He must have seen this happen, peripherally. But he was busy settling the bill with a middle-aged woman…

Fragment of a Novel

Fragment of a Novel - story

Lord Byron

“In the year 17__, having for some time determined on a journey through countries not hitherto much frequented by travellers, I set out, accompanied by a friend, whom I shall designate by the name of…

River of Honey, Lake of Milk

River of Honey, Lake of Milk - story

Ahmed Omar

Hadiya would visit us with her mother. On sunny days, we did our homework together under the grapevine; in winter, we did it by the stove. Her books were often torn: she didn’t like books…

Tamagotchi

Tamagotchi - story

Adam Marek

My son’s Tamagotchi had AIDS. The virtual pet was rendered on the little LCD screen with no more than 30 pixels, but the sickness was obvious. It had that AIDS look, you know? It was…

The Return

The Return - story

Fernanda Trías

The news was brought by Darío, the baker’s son. We knew something had happened as soon as we saw him, standing up on his bike pedals, coming closer under the midday sun. Someone said, “Who…

Close to the Body – Fifth Place

Close to the Body – Fifth Place - story

Sarit Elkon

I remember a tree. Its crown awning the path. I remember a large trunk, thicker than any I had seen before. I remember roots cleaving the black earth, bursting it asunder, like snakes fighting free…