Afterward, I tried to find the Faulkner story where a man on horseback rides deep into the swamp to find the Indians who are breeding runaway Negroes whose children they will sell as slaves back to the same white man from whom the parents ran away— If I remember right, he wears a green-gray…
Is everyone who’s fat a bit thick? And is it true that oligarchs masturbate more than normal men and women do? that apricots “work well” with mayonnaise; that ugliness lasts longer than beauty; that helping people is a waste of time; that Lady Di was pregnant? Is it true that aphids start to breed at…
Everybody knows that men in uniform are suffering from low self-esteem; that those of us who’ve got a sweet tooth need to eat lots and lots of chocolate or else we lose our temper; Texas Longhorns never wear anything but orange; the human race is obviously progressing; gastropods are always inconsolable; celebrities abrade their skin…
There he is eatin’ like a horse with his neck brace around his elbow— robbin’ pears from the next table. He’s on the dole at home with a claim in against the Corpo for a dodgy curb job only he called it an f’ing footpath. You’d have to be on LSD for your foot to…
The maid’s unnecessarily loud scream was the first real hint that something was wrong: that, followed by the sound of the hot breakfast dishes hitting the floor and then another scream for good measure. By this time his wife had dived back under the covers begging him to go and see what the matter was….
1 Thi hert loups wi thi gairfish in uts waatirgaw o spray, o ee an muscle, licht and air-rush in mornin oan thi Tay. Ye needna be a bairnie, or hae keethin sicht o ocht tae see whit ithers carena fur an laive ahint aa thocht. …
The toll of living voices like irregular bells in the domes of concentrically arranged bricks in the dark roof causes the fish to fight. Their long gray bodies, eager for blindness, slide over each other in the umber shallows: they are like pigeons in a long-buried piazza; they break the surface of having been forgotten…
The sky brighter than before; rushes and salt flats; white, broad-winged birds that landed standing, like angels, who are known by all to be salt-eaters. In that silence he set out water and bread and salt. He burned myrtle and hyssop. He wept. He called the quarters. Raw rice and a…
Najiba Ahmad and Fatima Muhammad Amin Everything began to end that winter. Inch by inch we withdrew, stopped at Kanitu, prepared for the caves— baking bread, boiling meat, sorting through clothes. Then someone screamed: “They’re coming.” We left the bread on the saj tray, the meat on the kerosene heater, the…
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