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The Last Osama - story
Lavie Tidhar
I was riding through the lowlands, the horse’s hooves scattering dry dust into the air. An inflamed red sun hovered on the horizon like a damaged eye, leaking tears of yellow and blue and tendrils…
The Reality and the Record - story
Hassan Blasim
Everyone staying in the refugee reception centre has two stories – the real one and the one for the record. The stories for the record are the ones the new refugees tell to obtain the…
