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Self-Replicating Textual Worms
Lucy Mercer
‘Sometimes, it is better to not know what is behind the veil, decode the sign.’
Lucy Mercer on motherhood, emblems and obscurity.
The Premonitions Man
Hanif Kureishi
‘The man died as Arnold predicted. It kept happening, and it was disconcerting, terrifying, like being possessed or going mad.’
A new story by Hanif Kureishi.
Touch Me Like One of Your Island Girls: A Love Story
Megan Kamalei Kakimoto
‘Was the sunburn part of the shtick? she wondered while the video continued to play.’
A story by Megan Kamalei Kakimoto.
The House on El Estero
Fernanda Melchor
‘The girl vomited with rage as Jorge recited the prayer. She struggled and squirmed, kicked and spat.’
A story by Fernanda Melchor, translated by Sophie Hughes.
O Brother
John Niven
‘Up on the light box on the wall are the scans of Gary’s brain, bone white standing out against smoked grey.’
John Niven remembers the last days of his brother, Gary.
Brother
Vanessa Onwuemezi
‘Brother, to be your sister is to confront the possibility of having been other than I am.’
Vanessa Onwuemezi on the meaning of sisterhood.
The Making of the Babies
Lee Lai
‘I can’t believe it’s been two years since we’ve been able to get together and we’re still just arguing about which of us incurs more shit from the aunties.’
A graphic short story by Lee Lai.
The Stripping of Threads
Jamal Mahjoub
‘I hold no illusions about us being reunited. All of this has gone on for far too long.’
Jamal Mahjoub on family obligation and estrangement.
These Stolen Twins
Viktoria Lloyd-Barlow
‘In our household there was no distinction of feeling between those who were biologically related and those who were simply instructed to regard each other as such.’
Viktoria Lloyd-Barlow on growing up with foster siblings.
Captions
Andrew Miller
‘I note that my brother – he’ll deny it but he was always the moody one – has apparently refused to take Granny’s hand.’
Andrew Miller reflects on three family photographs.
On Silk
Sally Wen Mao
‘At the silk museum, / the silkworms crumpled themselves in baskets, / lazy and dazed in the spoils of mulberry.’
A poem by Sally Wen Mao.
