The Exorcism of Doctor Escudero
‘His body was like a rock. It wasn’t his. It was like he was possessed.’
Travel Notes About Death
‘The first notes I take are about a man who was born, grew up, worked, was married, had a daughter, grew old, and died in the same village.’
About Her and the Memories That Belong to Her
‘If I were to forget, then it would be the same as it never having existed at all.’
Nothing Ever Happens Here
‘I was broke, and I was a nobody, but I was happy.’ A story from Otessa Moshfegh about a young man moving to Hollywood.
‘I have heard the item girls singing each to each. / I do not think they will sing to me.’
Lagos Must Prosper
21 million people, $91 billion GDP, an ambitious governor whose term is up: Alexis Okeowo on the megacity of Lagos
‘Selecting the right kind of a tomato was crucial for the scam to work.’
‘My father has his own language for everything. When I finished my MFA, I was a NINJA: No Income, No Job, No Assets.’
The Wrong Square
‘Something as fundamental to intelligence as counting was eluding him.’
It was discovered that gut bacteria were responsible
‘Each bacterium was entitled to pay / a fee in the form of mitochondrial energy to purchase / a ‘dream token’ to be dropped into a Potential Well.’
Her Lousy Shoes
‘On good days, he could believe that that was exactly what he appeared to be: pedestrian, a pedestrian, a walker, walking, going places, on the ups, possessing two healthy feet at least.’
Gandhi the Londoner
‘On 29 September 1888, an Indian teenager with a mild case of ringworm and a fine head of hair sailed into the Thames Estuary.’ Sam Miller on Ghandi's time in London.
‘Things started going wrong at my ten-year college reunion – or I guess I mean that I realized how wrong they had gone.’
‘Oh, nothing, nothing is mine. / I am like the reflections of a gloomy lake / or the echo of voices at the bottom of a blue / well when it has rained.’
A Double-Income Family
When Mrs Mehra leaves Delhi she retires in one of ‘the vast new satellite townships on the eastern fringes of the metropolis’.
The Buzzard’s Egg
‘I can’t remember: did a young man destroy his miserable god, or did a god free its worshipper and take his blood and his bones?’
‘In more ways than one, the rituals of death had reminded me that I was an outsider.’
The Ghost in the Kimono
Deep in the dense volume of Delhi’s history Raghu Kardad investigates ‘the remarkable, untold story of the Japanese in the Old Fort’.