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Héctor Abad | First Sentence
Héctor Abad
‘Ever since this happened to me, I haven’t really believed in free will.’
A Rationalist in the Jungle
Héctor Abad
‘A pale-faced, near-sighted urbanite like me is nothing less than handicapped in the heart of the jungle.’
Diminishing Returns
Fatin Abbas
‘Alex had been sent to this remote district between north and south Sudan to update maps. It was an information-gathering project run by an American NGO based in the capital, Khartoum, nine hundred kilometers to the north.’
Hush . . . Hush Sweet Charlotte
Kazushige Abe
‘The crucial thing was to cool the baby off, bring the fever down.’
Losing Irina
Aria Aber
‘I did sometimes fantasize about her Ur-wound, the traumatic memory image from which her asceticism sprung.’
Fiction from Aria Aber.
Road to Chitral
Azhar Abidi
‘I wonder sometimes when this cycle of violence began. When was year zero?’
Furniture of Desire
Walter Abish
‘It took him only a moment to eliminate all doubt. The opportunity was ripe.’
But Why Write? The Writer-To-Be
Walter Abish
‘How to explain this resolve to write, this firm unwavering intent to become a writer on the part of someone who may not even really care for books?’
Sweet Truth
Walter Abish
‘I believe in the harmony of my friendship to Gisela rather than in the binding force that the institution of marriage is said to represent.’
The Comrades and I
Mona Abouissa
Mona Abouissa on her experiences with Egyptian communists, and the role they played in Egypt before 1952, when they were excised from official history.
Fork in the Road
Leila Aboulela
‘I left Sudan in 1987 – I was 23 years old and the idea of writing was the furthest thing from my mind.’
