If black is the colour of the Islamic State, then grey is the colour of destruction. In Lorenzo Meloni’s extraordinary images, the mountains of rubble, the skeletal ruins, the dust-veiled avenues, even the scrubby plants in what was the city of Kobane emerge in overlapping shades of grey.
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‘Parents should not have to bury their children. I will come to you, she whispers.’
Fiction by Himali McInnes.
‘Just follow me, she had said, you do nothing but what I tell you to.’
An extract from Yiyun Li’s new novel.
‘While Fateha is fleeing westward with her children, another woman is trying to save herself from the city on the shore of the Sea of Azov.’
Memoir by Sana Valiulina, translated by Polly Gannon.
Kirill Kobrin on living through war and the conflict in Ukraine. Translated from the Russian by Veronika Zitta.
‘The scrubbing of floors or rugs. People down on their knees, “tamping” the stain.’ Alex Hyde on the everyday gestures that make a life.
‘Mina Loy has been a preferred voice in my head, echoing with a signature delirious chant as a kind of primordial poetry mother.’
