Photograph courtesy of the authors
‘Four Syrian Borders’ is product of a joint collaboration between Granta and the International Literary Showcase, an initiative supported by Writers’ Centre Norwich, the British Council and Arts Council England.
‘The landscape, glimpsed through plumes of dust thrown up by trucks, grew drier, more hostile as it climbed away from the sea.’
Photograph courtesy of the authors
‘Four Syrian Borders’ is product of a joint collaboration between Granta and the International Literary Showcase, an initiative supported by Writers’ Centre Norwich, the British Council and Arts Council England.
‘I didn’t think she was happy; I thought she was in love, but I didn’t know what that told me, if it told me anything.’
Fiction by Jennifer Atkins.
‘She has been ten for a month and she does not like it. She carries the weight of her extra digit like a chain-mail vest.’
Fiction by Sara Baume.
‘I could hear the sea, and I could hear my own name.’
Fiction by Eliza Clark.
‘There was to be an exhibition. There were lots of pictures like his, apparently – of waiters, pastry cooks, valets, bellboys.’
A story by Tom Crewe.
‘I don’t remember his face, nor him as a whole.’
Derek Owusu on fathers and family.
Esa Aldegheri is an academic and activist working in the field of migration and integration. She speaks five languages, is a researcher at the University of Glasgow and Chair of Edinburgh City of Sanctuary. @aldeghesa
More about the author →Gavin Francis is a physician in Edinburgh and the award-winning author of Empire Antarctica, Adventures in Human Being and Shapeshifters. He's a regular contributor to the Guardian, LRB and the New York Review of Books. www.gavinfrancis.com @gavinfranc
More about the author →
‘What strikes me most, though, is how writers and climbers share an appetite for failure.’
Natasha Calder on bouldering.
‘All sex is about letting go, I tell myself, and it is about time I do.’
Fiction by hurmat kazmi.
‘the widening gap / between two kinds of life: the one lived and the one / remembered.’
Two poems by Maya C. Popa.
‘I have never felt it as a poet, and that is why I’m doubly grateful to dance, for having experienced the loneliness and the terror of the empty stage, but also, to have had that live connection.’
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