‘I lied to you the other day, you know.’
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‘A stranger may well function as a projection screen.’
‘I lied to you the other day, you know.’
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‘The anglophone world, we have to infer, has run out of words for its own feelings.’
Daisy Hildyard on the wisdom of scarecrows.
‘What is the read receipt for?’
Lillian Fishman on texting, power and the ethics of leaving a friend on read.
‘Like pretty much everyone who uses the internet, I have seen many terrible things that I did not search for and that I cannot unsee.’
Rosanna McLaughlin on what the internet thinks she wants.
‘I have a pathological addiction to the internet, which I indulge with the excuse of making art. It rarely translates to anything good and mostly leaves me overstimulated and afraid.’
Paul Dalla Rosa on excess and the internet.
‘rumors of bees on speedwell, / no oxidative stress just / effortless pollination’
Two poems by Sylvia Legris.
Carola Saavedra was born in Chile and moved to Brazil as a child. She has lived in Spain, France and Germany, and currently lives in Rio de Janeiro. She is the author of the story collection Do lado de fora (2005), and the novels Toda terça (2007), Flores azuis (2008) and Paisagem com dromedário (2010), which won the Rachel de Queiroz Award for Best Young Author. ‘Every Tuesday’ is an extract from Toda terça.
More about the author →‘It’s quite uncommon to find dialogues that engulf you from the first word.’
‘Being recognised as part of a couple thrilled me; I felt legitimised. John had a life, a full life.’
Fiction by Sophie Collins.
‘The script of script production rather followed the script of sex: it was intimate, exciting, boundary-crossing, and left the participants changed.’
Susan Pedersen on paranormal love in the Balfour family.
‘The intensity of it seemed in retrospect something inexplicable, like a sudden opening in the sky with an outpouring of visions.’
Mary Gaitskill on her experiences with Pneuma therapy.
‘Helfrecht’s forest is a place where dead wood has taken on the form of a woman, where we stare wild animals in the eye, where we suspect body parts may be hidden under the snow.’
Hanna Englemeier introduces photography by Elena Helfrecht. Translated by Peter Kuras.
‘In our structures we South Africans tend to declare ourselves quite nakedly, sometimes eloquently, and rarely with dissimulation.’
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