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Snuffing Out the Moon

Osama Siddique

What does it take to find a good lawyer in Lahore?

A Suburban Weekend

Lisa Taddeo

‘The facts. Fern was skinnier than Liv, but Liv was blonde and tall and her breasts were enormous and thrillingly spaced.’

The Sweet Sop

Ingrid Persaud

‘The memory of chocolate made the man crazy to see me. I became Reggie’s dealer. A voice on the phone would whisper, ‘Two Kit Kat’ and hang up.’

Araben

Pooneh Rohi

‘Like all roads, this one too comes to an end.’ A Swedish novel that looks at the realities of the immigrant experience.

Drive Your Plough Over the Bones of the Dead

Olga Tokarczuk

‘They gazed at us calmly, as if we had caught them in the middle of performing some ritual whose meaning we could not fathom.’

Lincoln in the Bardo

George Saunders

‘Must I deny my predilection, and marry, and doom myself to a certain, shall we say, dearth of fulfillment?’

Matt Dillon

Michelle Tea

‘Michelle had learned a valuable lesson: Do not leave the house unless you look ready to meet Matt Dillon.’ From the novel Black Wave.

The Book of the Dead

Orikuchi Shinobu

A gothic tale of love between a noblewoman and a ghost in eighth century Japan, translated by Jeffrey Angles.

Hilditch & Key

Carl Shuker

A Syrian refugee visits London’s oldest houses of fashion. ‘The contemplation of the perfection of a craft, worn by a man who knew its worth, and his own.’

Armadillo Man

Julianne Pachico

‘The Armadillo Man is watching her. She gives him a good show – the best she has to offer.’

My Angel

Adam Thorpe

‘I am full of unreal desires and worthless imaginings.’

Her Boy

Mika Taylor

‘She is the first dolphin mother, Peter her boy genius.’

What’s Not There Can’t Hurt You

Sara Taylor

‘A shadow gained body and grew, looming over the bed, and he caught the impression of long teeth and many limbs, smelled something claylike and vegetal.’

Memoirs of a Polar Bear

Yoko Tawada

‘I was perfectly content with my new life until I began to write my autobiography.’

The Maenad

Eliza Robertson

‘She feels the wildness enter her and keeps her eyes shut.’ New fiction from Eliza Robertson.

Do Not Say We Have Nothing

Madeleine Thien

‘In a single year, my father left us twice.’

First Love

Gwendoline Riley

‘It must be a dreadful cross: this hot desire to join in with people who don’t want you.’

Idioglossia

Eimear Ryan

‘There is no face more familiar than one’s own.’

Eel

Stefanie Seddon

‘The eel I saw was the one lying deep and quiet and alone in his coppery pool in the bush.’ 2016 Commonwealth Short Story Prize – regional winner for Europe and Canada.

Mr Salary

Sally Rooney

‘My love for him felt so total and so annihilating that it was often impossible for me to see him clearly at all.’

All We Shall Know

Donal Ryan

‘Thoughts sharpen themselves on the flints of one another and pierce me like a knife in my middle, sunk deep and twisted around.’

A Visit to the Zoo

Colm Tóibín

‘The two chameleons in a glass case appeared to interest all of them, Heinrich thought, because of their beauty and their stillness. They looked like a pale painting.’

The Conveyor Belt

Louise Stern

‘Tall men that looked like insects crept out of cracks in the stones.’

A Play on Mothering

David Rakoff

‘His hands are a jewel box and I lean forward and peer in.’

Last Day on Earth

Eric Puchner

‘Despite my efforts at denial the new reality of our lives was beginning to sink in.’

Then

Mark Slouka

‘It was in January, I think. That weekend, more than any other, the thought of her leaving seemed impossible.’

Cat

Katy Simpson Smith

‘I didn’t dream because I had no memories.’

The Middle Ages: Approaching the Question of a Terminal Date

David Szalay

‘What is left? What is he to wrap himself in, now that everything has floated off into space?’

We Were Holy Once

Amber Sparks

‘We see things most folks can’t.’

The Buddhist

Alan Rossi

‘Loneliness is the extra, the part that’s unnecessary.’

To Rio de Janeiro

Gonçalo M. Tavares

‘In the end, what one understands in Rio de Janeiro is that joy is the only coherence of a living being.’

To Zagreb

Yoko Tawada

‘You didn’t know where you wanted to end up, had never considered how much time you had left.’

Numb

Lauren Schenkman

‘She felt things under the skin: scars where the body had torn during childbirth, clumps of cellulite, lobules and ducts.’

Look Out, Narendran!

Subha

A madman is dead set on blowing up the Taj Mahal, and there’s only one pair of detectives who can stop him. Tamil Pulp Fiction at its best.

Performance Art

Manjula Padmanabhan

‘A single pod of cardamom! Was that enough? To flavour an entire life’s pot of time?’

The Ferryman Is Dead

Saša Stanišić

Here, more die than are born. There’s a refrigerator at the bottom of the lake. The ferryman is dead. No one is coming to take his place.