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Ruins in Reverse

Carlos Fonseca

‘I couldn’t remember the dates, so anything was possible.’

Fiction by Carlos Fonseca, translated by Megan McDowell.

Nobody Knows What They’re Doing

Camila Fabbri

‘In that instant my sisters were two animals about to work some shit out.’

Fiction by Camila Fabbri, translated by Jennifer Croft.

Wanjala

Estanislao Medina Huesca

‘Heriberto blamed Spain. He always did.’

Fiction by Estanislao Medina Huesca, translated by Mara Faye Lethem.

Vital Signs

Munir Hachemi

‘She smelled of liquor, and death, and veal.’

Fiction by Munir Hachemi, translated by Nick Caistor.

A Perfect Cemetery

Federico Falco

An excerpt from Federico Falco’s story collection A Perfect Cemetery.

Fat Bodies

Forsyth Harmon

‘Justine was at my lab table, pulling at the ends of her black bob, shoving her hair into her mouth.’

An excerpt from Justine, out with Tin House Books.

The Stinky Ocean

Ian Jack

‘It was a peculiar, alopecic landscape of hummocks and gullies, with patches of grass growing on what looked like white earth, and rarely a soul to be seen.’

When the Cholera Came

Lindsey Hilsum

‘It was hard not to wonder if the disease was a kind of divine retribution – collective punishment for a collective crime.’

Abbandonati

Rory Gleeson

‘One day, 200 people’s X-rays showed they needed intensive care in order to survive.’

The Mezzanine, or: The Most Important Book About Nothing You’ll Ever Read

Joel Golby

‘It’s like taking an escalator trip into someone else’s mind for an hour, finding nothing of actual substance up there, and realising, as you retreat mournfully back into your own skull, that there’s nothing there, either.’

Notes on Craft

Ho Sok Fong

‘While writing we recover memories, recover moods, and we start to interpret them.’

The Lye of the Land

Derek Gow

‘One in seven British species is now threatened with extinction. Many more, from the grey wolf to the blue stag beetle, are already long gone.’

Creep

Caoilinn Hughes

‘She hadn’t been skiing since her master’s in Iceland, back when glaciers had some heft to them, though slackened and fast-diminishing as the legs of a retired cyclist.’

The Wolf at the Door

Cal Flyn

‘Wolves brook no bureaucracy. They do not believe in borders. It has been years since we have come face to face with apex predators in our own country.’