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A Novel in Nine Letters

A Novel in Nine Letters - story

Fyodor Dostoyevsky

I (From Pyotr Ivanitch To Ivan Petrovitch) Dear Sir and Most Precious Friend, Ivan Petrovitch, For the last two days I have been, I may say, in pursuit of you, my friend, having to talk…

The Emperor Franz Joseph’s Portrait

The Emperor Franz Joseph’s Portrait - story

Jaroslav Hašek

In Mladá Boleslav there lived a stationer called Petiška. He was a man who respected the law and had lived, for longer than anyone could remember, across the road from the barracks. On the Emperor’s…

The Spider in the Jar

The Spider in the Jar - story

Théodora Armstrong

After collecting the beer bottles from the bunkhouses at the sawmill, the brothers headed into the forest behind their house to eat wild blackberries, until their bellies were rotten with them and their fingertips were…

You Are the Bad Smell

You Are the Bad Smell - story

Kathy Anderson

“This isn’t the one,” she said, laying her hand on my arm. As if she was really sorry. “Stick a fork in me. I’m done,” I said. “No. You’re just upset. You thought this was…

The Open Window

The Open Window - story

Saki

“My aunt will be down presently, Mr. Nuttel,” said a very self-possessed young lady of fifteen; “in the meantime you must try and put up with me.” Framton Nuttel endeavoured to say the correct something…

Yasha’s Eternity

Yasha’s Eternity - story

Anna Starobinets

  Yasha Hein woke up while it was still dark – long before the alarm clock rang – because of a strange quietness that was filling him up from within. During the evening of the…

The Voice

The Voice - story

Silvina Ocampo

The autumn felt more like summer than the summer had. I was wearing my blue silk dress, and I had the little Pekinese they’d given me for my birthday when I arrived at my boyfriend’s…

What We’ve Become

What We’ve Become - story

Margarita Leoz

I remember it was almost summer, and I called from my office, between patients, to make the appointment. Paz had recommended a beauty salon that happened to be near my parents’ house. I made an…

Chocolate

Chocolate - story

Manju Kapur

Tara was fat. Her husband made it clear that it didn’t do his image any good to have her waddling around, jiggling rolls of flesh. “I don’t waddle,” she said, hurt. “You do,” said Abhay…

My Father’s Ties

My Father’s Ties - story

Recaredo Veredas

The tie is doomed, just as the larger Asian elephant is doomed.  Manuel Vilas   8 January 2018 I can’t stand them. I’d burn them in a dirty flame, a diesel flame, no sandalwood or…