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Summer - story
Natalia Ginzburg
I was away from my children for a while. They’d gone to the seaside with my sister and my mother, I stayed in the city, my mother was angry at me because I wrote and…
Ain’t No Word But Lonely – First Place - story
Rachel A. Levine
The first time Anna heard her son’s heartbeat, it was through the doctor’s stethoscope; a hummingbird beat, a frantic thumping; a small frenetic voice. She was a linguist, the first of her circle of friends…
Buy Two Get One Free - story
Tal Nitzán
In my other life I lived in a suburb of Ohio or Michigan with Paul-Marc, my husband, and the child. The houses were planted on manicured lawns that stretched as far as the eye could…
Oxytocin - story
Miguel Serrano Larraz
My sister always said that it was much better to have a niece or nephew than your own child. I suppose that my mother agreed with her. My sister said that with a nephew you…
Bear Ears - story
Carolina Vegas
I came across him the other day when I was looking for the snorkel fins in the storage space. I didn’t even remember that I’d left him there. He was covered in dust and had…
The Child - story
Antonia Baum
At home, in my flat, in the three neat and prettily decorated rooms belonging to me and nobody but me, lives a little child that torments me. We’re so attached by now that I can’t…
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…
I Stand Here Ironing - story
Tillie Olsen
I stand here ironing, and what you asked me moves tormented back and forth with the iron. “I wish you would manage the time to come in and talk with me about your daughter. I’m…
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…
Freezing Water - story
Vera Giaconi
She’d spent the entire morning in the kitchen finishing the three cakes that had been ordered for that afternoon. Behind her, the TV replayed the images from the attack, the same ones over and over…
