ҹɫֱ��

By Illia Ponomarenko

Morning comes to Kyiv again. That was indeed a dramatic night. Not only in the sense of a giant death army standing at the gate.

Translated by Zenia Tompkins and Nina Murray

I faced a very tall man, dressed in camo and holding an AK‑47. He grabbed me by the neck and held me up against the wall while closing the door with his other hand. He was so massive that I wondered why he bothered with the machine gun at all.

By Ani Gjika

In Albania in the nineties … men in their twenties and thirties are hungry to align themselves with what they perceive as power … harassing girls and women wherever…

By Christopher Miller

We passed several colorful messages now scrawled across the traffic signs. One appealed to the enemy’s humanity: “Russian soldier, stop! How will you look into your children’s eyes? Leave!”

Translated by Julia Conrad

For a Sicilian, understanding Sicily means understanding oneself. It means choosing to be absolved or condemned. And it means resolving the fundamental tension that plagues us, the oscillation between claustrophobia and claustrophilia, between a hatred and love of seclusion.

Translated by Nina Bogin

In immense rooms, straw mattresses are spread out on the floor. There are collective showers and a vast dining hall.

Translated by Lytton Smith

I went out to the Kringilsárrani reserve while it still existed and was able to experience firsthand this magical world Helgi wrote about.

Translated by Sasha Dugdale

I must have been about twelve. I was hunting around for some-thing interesting to look at. There was plenty of interesting stuff: with every death a pile of new objects appeared in our apartment, deposited just as they were, trapped in a sudden end state, because their previous owner, the only person who could have freed them, was no longer among the living.

Translated by Stephen Twilley

They move slowly, lazily; move their arms or turn their back by swiveling their chest, their head immobile, with the lazy litheness of reptiles.

Translated by Angela Rodel

We danced through the Videnov financial Crisis as well, the protests, the harsh hyperinflation that bled our parents dry.

Translated by Paul Wilson

And sure enough, Blackie stopped paying attention to me, and then she began clawing at me and I had to take a rag, and then a blanket, and hold her down.

Translated by Tsipi Keller

A pointless day in Brindisi. A terrible fatigue. Pain in my gut, and I fear that I’ll be sick throughout the trip. I’m now sitting in a restaurant…

By Mark Chu

Art has a substantially higher engagement in meaning, and another term for this transfer of meaning is communication, perhaps art’s chief purpose.

Translated by Adriana Hunter

My stepfather respected every form of authority… and it so happens he also obeyed my mother. Weak with the strong, he was quite naturally strong with the weak.

Translated by Layla Benitez-James

Africa, our old and beloved continent, is an ancestral land, just like her inhabitants. Africa is the beginning of everything.

Translated by Celia Hawkesworth and Ellen Elias-Bursac

My mother collects other people’s deaths, rattling them mournfully like coins in a piggy bank. “Did you know Petrović died?” asks Mother over the phone.

Translated by Susanna Nied

When I was nine years old, the world too was nine years old. At least there was no difference between us, no opposition, no distance. We just tumbled around from sunrise to sunset, earth and body as like as two pennies. And there was never a harsh word between us, for the simple reason that there were no words at all between us; we never uttered a word to each other, the world and I.

������Layla Benitez-James

I wanted to unequivocally condemn police violence while simultaneously feeling a knee jerk aversion to any movement working under a shared idea of nationalism.