Statement of Record

CategoryFiction

A Time of Splendid Isolation

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By Alex Weilhammer

They lived in a box by the side of a road, and within their box, they were gods whose thoughts came to life. With a sudden snap, they could collapse walls, raise ceilings, add stairs, re-do flooring, conjure statues, erect fountains, and more. 
            In all the months they had been living in...

How Fires End

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By Marco Rafalà

An excerpt of the novel How Fires End, published by Little A, 2019.

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Nella

Prologue

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“I had three brothers,” she began, “but now—” Nella took a deep breath, held it in, let it out slow. “Now I am the last Vassallo. After me...

Au Pair

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A novel excerpt by Cecilia Hansson

From Natur och Kultur, 2019, translated from the Swedish by Kira Josefsson 

A BEGINNING OF SORTS 

When I go to Erstagatan to be unfaithful it is spring, and I am 31 years old. 
For four years I’ve been trapped inside a relationship, and this is me breaking out. 

He’s just...

Sometimes a Slow, Steady, Light

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They liked to play a lot of weird twin jokes. Mateo would slap his own cheek and Julián would cry out in pain. They would dress in the same way to see how long it would take for people to figure out who was who. They also developed a secret language that turned out to be a mixture of Turkish and Spanglish. The mixing of Spanish and English was easy, this was how we grew up. The...

Threshold

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The threshold that divides his memory in two was a deep gap. This deep emptiness was filled with a hum. The sound of shouting. Tear gas. With nerve gas. With fog. The void was covered with the smell of burnt people. Megaphone sounds. Threats. Crumbling walls. With shattered doors. There’s never been a threshold, there’s never been one.

The Scorched Cross (excerpt)

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By Margot Douaihy

In Prince’s trunk was a red leash and a gray duffle bag fraying at the seams, and inside the cheap bag was a Smith & Wesson M&P 9mm. I knew the make and model because the old man had one. 
“Looks like a .40 S and W,” Riveaux announced into her handset. Sweat rolled down her wrists, from under her plastic blue gloves, as she carefully pulled objects...

That’s all

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By Figen Şakacı

From Keseklİ Tarla (Cloddy Field), a collection of short stories, 2020

Aysel was grumpy. She would look for defects wherever she went. Then, she would take the best seat with an air expecting deference. I would respectfully beseech her company; she would oblige me and scooch over. She didn’t like guests much. If someone laughed a lot, she...

Classified Ad for the Folded

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I have just one request. If you have ever been bent or folded or broken this way some time in the past, or if you stayed very straight, but heard that someone close to you experienced something like this, please contact me at the telephone number below. I bought a voicemail machine just in case I’m not at home when you call. And just in case there is a problem with the voicemail, I also added my...

A GOOD DAY FOR THE CROWS

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By Aydin Behnam

The young hunter had gathered up the folding mattress in the morning, but a few pillows and bolsters were still strewn about on the worn rug. He pulled one of the fluffy chicken-feather pillows close and leaned on it with his elbow. He...

THE ENCOUNTER

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By İrem Uzunhasanoğlu

I felt like a seed in a world where everything was destined to end and everyone was destined to die. I sprouted, I grew, I decayed, and I lay on the soil to die again, until I sprouted and grew and decayed and...

The Names on the Stairs

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By Burhan Sönmez

Birth. They called him “Tahir.” That was the name of his parents’ relative Uncle Tahir. To tell the truth, everyone in the village was related. After that day Uncle Tahir lived for another twenty years, until he collapsed to the ground during the harvest.

At the age of 3 days. They called him “Burhan.” At his...

Flattening the Curve

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By Aydin Behnam and John Casquarelli

You must believe me. I had never done anything like this before. Yes, it was his first time coming to my unit. It was my fault. I started it all. I read it in an old book I found in the attic and I mentioned it to him. The book said that it used to be an old custom. I’m so stupid! I should have known better. He had a way of...

Statement of Record

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