Search Results:

Endgame - story
Abdalhadi Alijla
I opened my eyes to the world in a city with a lifeless childhood. I opened my eyes in the battlefield. Nobody told me who the soldiers were, or what occupation is. I grew up…

The Battle of Tel el-Hawa - story
Asmaa al-Ghol
“It was a pitched battle…” – a description he had often read out to his classmates from history textbooks but never thought he would one day use as he had just done, speaking to his…

The Enigmatic Crime of the Signals Private - story
Ali Badr
Gentlemen, my name is Jamal Ahmad. I work as a signals private in Forward Reconnaissance Unit 312, engaging the American enemy in the south. I confess in your presence, and I am of sound…

Nam - story
María Fernanda Ampuero
She’s getting naked. Something either very bad or very good is happening. Happening to me. Whatever it is, my parents can’t find out. I’m at a friend’s house. Nothing strange there. But my new friend,…

The Route through Purgatory - story
Omayma Abdullah
The sands lolled and swam in the sun’s blazing rays all day, then when darkness fell, they patiently waited for the sun to rise. As far as the eye could see, the sands swelled in…

Deception or Dreams of the Man Who Didn’t Lose His Shadow - story
Waciny Laredj
1 Was it merely deception or something more? The paths were so exhausting, and the days were so hard! Wouldn’t it have been better to take the short-cuts? Nothing is of any…

Birth - story
Abdel Aziz Baraka Sakin
It was her panting that drew me over. I was exhausted, as the new work regime had been sucking every last drop of life out of us. But my misreading of the situation (what with…

Rabbits of Baghdad - story
Raghad al-Suheil
I don’t think we did go blind, I think we are blind, blind but seeing, blind people who can see, but do not see. José Saramago Saeed, drunk, opened the door. The rabbit hopped…

A Handful of Dirt - story
Jan Dost
As soon as he saw his friend, who had just arrived from back home, in the airport arrivals lounge, he asked him, “Did you bring it?” His friend gestured to the backpack hanging off of…

The Red Crown - story
Mikhail Bulgakov
Most of all I hate the sun, loud human voices, and pounding. Rapid, rapid pounding. I am so afraid of people that if I hear someone else’s footsteps and the sound of voices in the…