‘The children crossed the valley of ringing rocks, of bird bones, of fox feet.’
Fiction by Mónica Ojeda, translated by Sarah Booker.
‘All of us connected by this kind of universal sunstroke.’
Fiction by José Ardila, translated by Lindsay Griffiths and Adrián Izquierdo.
‘And there was our protagonist, ambling along through Reyes Park with unhurried steps, but still never losing that fixa.’
Fiction by Paulina Flores, translated by Megan McDowell.
‘Where his mother had surely hoped for a sweet little mouth, Dengue Boy had misshapen flesh bristling with maxillary palps.’
Fiction by Michel Nieva, translated by Natasha Wimmer.
‘I wish I could entrust my life to a more solid structure, but whatever. It’s not like anyone gets to file complaints around here.’
Fiction by Mateo García Elizondo, translated by Robin Myers.
‘The day we moved into the neighborhood, the house next door was in ruins, it was an inaccessible, absent place.’
Fiction by Gonzalo Baz, translated by Christina MacSweeney.
‘The day of the explosion, Bautista made his way through the camp as he had the previous days, months and years.’
Fiction by Miluska Benavides, translated by Katherine Silver.
Travellers Inside the Marquee
‘Katherine Mansfield has just stolen my chance to begin a conversation.’
Fiction by Eudris Planche Savón, translated by Margaret Jull Costa.
Insomnia of the Statues
‘Montreal was becoming smudged with snow and night.’
Fiction by David Aliaga, translated by Daniel Hahn.
Sea of Stone
‘Statues fill the entire avenue; they cover the pavement once meant for cars.’
Fiction by Aura García-Junco, translated by Lizzie Davis.
Our Windowless Home
‘It was important to touch them, a ritual to wake them up and keep them alive.’
Fiction by Martín Felipe Castagnet, translated by Frances Riddle.
Ruins in Reverse
‘I couldn’t remember the dates, so anything was possible.’
Fiction by Carlos Fonseca, translated by Megan McDowell.
‘If I could make just one call, I’d dial the bar in Madrid.’
Fiction by Andrea Chapela, translated by Kelsi Vanada.