Khalid with his brother Mohamed
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‘Early one morning in July 2003 I was woken by a phone call from a young man who I’d known since he was twelve.’
Khalid with his brother Mohamed
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‘I alone know a running stream
that is recovery partly and dim sweat
of a day-fever’
A poem by Rowan Evans.
‘Humour is a thread we hang onto. It punctures through the fog of guilt.’
Momtaza Mehri in conversation with Warsan Shire.
‘Something shifted in me that night. A small voice in my head said, maybe you can make a way for yourself as a poet here, too.’
Mary Jean Chan in conversation with Andrew McMillan.
‘There was to be an exhibition. There were lots of pictures like his, apparently – of waiters, pastry cooks, valets, bellboys.’
An essay by Jason Allen-Paisant from Granta 159: What Do You See?
‘I have started to see that nothing is itself’
A poem by Jason Allen-Paisant from Granta 154: I’ve Been Away for a While.
Alex Kotlowitz’s books include There Are No Children Here and, most recently, Chicago: Never a City So Real (Crown). He teaches writing at Northwestern University.
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‘Naturally, no partnership is perfect. Certain pieces will be at odds – you’ll have that.’
Fiction by Nico Walker.
‘When you are a female this is what happens: if you are not selected to be a mate by age twenty-seven, you are asked to get on the bus.’
Fiction by Sophie Frances Kemp.
‘He takes the knife, cuts the barb from the body, sends it back to the depths of the river.’
An extract from Not a River by Selva Almada, translated by Annie McDermott.
‘Is there in fact a jostling for dominance between the art forms, some barely suppressed competitiveness?’
Adam Mars-Jones on music and ceremony.
‘She was like a nun who wanted her body for herself but being generous gave it freely.’
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