Cidinha da Silva
Translated by Ana Luiza de Oliveira e Silva and Daniel Persia
“Girl, all that glitters sure ain’t gold. What does anyone see in that songamonga, anyway?” one woman remarks to her neighbor, as they sit out, sunbathing in front of the condo. Their neighbor walks across the yard carrying several grocery bags stuffed with lettuce.
Marream Krollos
Oh, yeah, I would say he was good. He was really good, it’s a shame what happened. I guess it was like, because of how he wants to know the details of your body, or how he wanted to know all kinds of shit about you.
Ivan Jozić
Translated by Marta Huber
Sometimes I travel alone and that’s all right; tonight, however that’s not the case. Here in the East, the night is born out of the winter’s pupil, the taxi driver’s heart, or something just as cold.
Evelyn Martinez
Life or death? I am twenty-six years old, standing at the edge of a scenic overlook a few miles from Lake Arrowhead. Far below, the Inland Empire extends its freeway and housing tracts into the orange-gray haze.
Lydia Armstrong
The very first time it happened, I was fifteen, walking across an overpass in the middle of the night on my way to see a boy.
Joelle Lambert
In the springtime, the ants in the house get out of control. I lose sleep over it. I have tried so many things to rid my house of ants.
Mannika Mishra
So far, she had seen only one person wearing sunglasses indoors.
The sky outside was stripped to brazen blue and inspired recklessness; grim forecasts for later in the day couldn’t possibly be right.
Sabahattan Ali
Translated by Daniel Koehler
Once again, I was out of work, and this time I was living off the generosity of a relative who owned a private hospital in Ankara.
Clara E. Ronderos
Translated by Mary G. Berg
Gabriela didn’t have a lot of respect for Professor Millán. His esoteric assignments made the writing workshop a space that encouraged exaggeration and false prophecies.
Rachel Nagelberg
I left and changed my shape. I had been stifled, not lived. I rented an apartment on a one-way street—each day on the way to my car I passed a sign that read End.
D-L Alvarez
This was a Mexican restaurant in Oakland. Milo was in the back area, taking the corner stage to sing karaoke. It was 1998 and Milo was celebrating his birthday, but then the plug was pulled, mid-“Never Let Me Down Again.”
Ty Hall
She never let me in her bed, not at first anyway. She said she didn’t let any men in her bed. I didn’t believe her, seeing from the hallway purple velvet Velcro hand restraints wrapped around her headboard’s posts.
Jorge Enrique Botero
Translated by David Feller Pegg
We have been under attack for over an hour and I have yet to fire a single shot. It’s almost dawn and old Gala will soon notice the R-15 fluttering in my hands.
Mike Dressel
It was the summer I was into armpits.
It was the week the mercury didn’t dip below 98 degrees.
It was the weekend we didn’t get back together.
Christopher Clubb
The first time I begged for money on the street was while I was in Italy. I had been living in England, studying abroad at Lancaster University.
Karen An-hwei Lee
Today, I wake up on the wrong side of the universe and realize, with a shock of recognition, my dear heavenly stars, I’m an octopus.
Keith Carver
Mehmet first saw tits at Kiki Damron’s trailer, in Gobles, deep into summer vacation, between grades five and six. They were hers to show, and nothing seemed wrong with it.
Jessica Love
When Lana dove into the deep end of the country club pool, she was completely submerged only for a brief moment, before her pink, plastic floaties tugged her upward by her biceps to the surface.
J. Weintraub
They were alone in the elevator, and then he was gone, and she hardly realized what had happened to her as she slid to the floor, her back against the wall, and when it reached the top and shuddered to a halt, she fell forward among the broken bags of groceries.
Alvin Lu
At some point it was decided there should be a hall. The idea started as a public square.
Luisa Valenzuela
Translated by Marguerite Feitlowitz
The hotel in Marseilles has a Moroccan motif. An interesting and creative way to renovate a big old house with two rooms on every floor and a steep staircase. Luckily a young man carried my suitcase up the steep stairs.
Dennis Vannatta
Mom set a can of Vienna sausage and a Yoohoo on the kitchen table in front of me. That’d been my favorite breakfast when I was a kid, but I’m fourteen now, an old fourteen it sometimes feels like although other times I think I’m just starting out. I don’t know.
Karin Wraley Barbee
The first time I sat in the armchair by the fire, whiskey and biscuits on a silver plate, the housekeeper removed my shoes, gestured to the window with her aged brown hand at the moonlit garden, at a grizzly circling
Luis Miguel Rivas Granada
Translation by David Feller Pegg
Santa Claus had another shot of aguardiente, then he stood up and staggered to the urinal. Bumps and bulges swayed under his belly as he walked and his disfigured girth began to swell up above his black belt, as if his chest were spilling out.
Elvira Vigna
Translated by Adrian Minckley
There is a piss smell wafting from one of the corners (the left one) and, towards the front, the foot resting on the table in the black Havaianas
Harford Hopson
I stared at the loose hair on the dash in front of me. It writhed, it shriveled. Cringed in the wind. But even with the windows open it buoyed to the dash. It was strong.
Luciana Erregue-Sacchi
She, an Argentinian art historian, meets a Peruvian anthropologist at a Canadian cocktail party. Looking over the Edmonton skyline from the third-floor
J S Khan
“Wake up, wake up, the world’s on fire!”: these are the first words I recall my mother saying, and the first words I recall being spoken by anyone—but especially and specifically to me.
Stefan Kiesbye
When he returned from his run, the garage door clicker was gone. Troy was panting next to him, his tongue fat and purple. Richard fished through his pockets, three
L.I. Sargis
Numerous studies have been conducted on the erotic/authoritarian appeal of Donald Trump. An extensive corpus of tweets,