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Like Hunger, Like Love

Like Hunger, Like Love - story

Giuseppe Caputo

For Carlos, for our hunger     As a boy I was hungry, bam. I came home running, jumping, and my mother would say: “Cut it out! Don’t move so much or you’ll be even…

Auction

Auction - story

María Fernanda Ampuero

There are roosters around here somewhere. Kneeling, with my head down and covered with a filthy rag, I concentrate on hearing the roosters, how many there are, if they’re in cages or a corral. Papa…

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…

Simidolia

Simidolia - story

Marcelo Cohen

One Sunday afternoon a family was digesting its midday meal and having a desultory debate about which of the many dishes they’d just put away was chiefly responsible for their present lethargy. From one corner…

Cannibalism In The Cars

Cannibalism In The Cars - story

Mark Twain

I visited St. Louis lately, and on my way West, after changing cars at Terre Haute, Indiana, a mild, benevolent-looking gentleman of about forty-five, or maybe fifty, came in at one of the way-stations and…

Ballet

Ballet - story

Federico Falco

The blinds are pulled down; the old couple who live opposite must be on holiday. Before, the old woman would come out every morning to water the plants on her balcony. The old man would…

The Socialist

The Socialist - story

Ryūnosuke Akutagawa

He was a young socialist. His father, a minor official, had thus threatened to disown him. Yet he had remained true to his convictions, for he was possessed of both burning zeal and supportive friends….

By His Things Shall You Know Him

By His Things Shall You Know Him - story

Cory Doctorow

I thought that Mr. Purnell was a little young to be a funeral director, but he had the look down cold. In the instant between his warm, dry handshake and my taking my hand back…

Leaving the Meadows

Leaving the Meadows - story

Megan Staffel

Two people came through the double glass doors of a twelve-story brick building and walked along the chain link fence to the parking lot. The tall, gray-haired man guided the short, white-haired woman by her…

The Flower of One’s Heart

The Flower of One’s Heart - story

Panio Gianopoulos

Yoshi Takamata moved from Kyoto to Connecticut at the age of fifteen, and his three years of American high school, followed by four years at local college and two decades in New York City, had…