By Prosper Mérimée, translated from the French. First complete English translation of Mérimée's legendary 1827 hoax, La Guzla.

Songs for the Gusle

A poem by Adela Zamudio (Bolivian, 1854–1928), translated from the Spanish.

Autumn

A short story by Mauricio Ruiz. Translated from Spanish. With one foot propped on the bench and her leg falling slightly to the side, she looks like a sex addict. Maybe a porn star. She watches the people watching her...

Infections

When I saw Amber J.’s house number on a pink mailbox with a shiny silver flag, I was sure I’d been given the wrong address. When we were in fourth grade, she roped me into helping her paint her entire Barbie Dreamhouse black, inside and out...

We Were the Ambers

A House in the Country

Mairéad knows what she will say if her husband asks why she has been filling their eldest daughter’s bowl to the brim with porridge at every meal while taking less than a full serving for herself. She will talk about how much she hates oats...

Fallmore

A short story by Monique Debruxelles. Translated from French. In print issue 36.1. When Quickfall moved into his riverside cabin, the air was thick with the scent of honeysuckle. He got himself a set of secondhand furniture for a song...

Secondhand Furniture

Shortlisted, 2024 Welkin Mini. The cat’s name is Maple Syrup and the fox is called Bruce, but only for today. Maple Syrup on your right hand, Bruce on the left...

Story Hour

“Motorcycle,” Janine hears herself say into the phone, and everything about the word confuses her.
First, there is the quality of her voice. She has forgotten to breathe, and the final syllable gets stuck in her throat. The word feels like...

The Day the Bank Isn't Robbed

A short story by Monique Debruxelles. Translated from French. I was born in satin, silk, and percale. It was a Tuesday, and on Tuesdays my mother went to the fabric store to feed her obsession with sewing. . . .

My Bespoke Life

The house would not be sold.

The listing agent called the market "funky." Don’t change a thing, she said; a house like this one, blending historic charm with modern updates, would sell soon enough.

Dolores knew better.

House of Sorrows

A short story by Monique Debruxelles. Translated from French. The cherry blossoms in the yard looked silly. It makes no sense, Romuald thought. Trees shouldn't be in full bloom in February...

Fine Weather for This Time of Year

Everybody knows student council elections are just popularity contests, but I’m still shocked that our classmates thought it would be a good idea to put Zak in charge of anything.

The Reefer

A short story by Monique Debruxelles. Translated from French. Even though I’m 5’9” and built like an Olympic swimmer, I’ve never gone for the tall, burly type. I prefer my men wussy. Wimps tend to be better company...

All the Best Guys Are Named Jean-Edmond

Four poems by Adélaïde-Gillette Dufrénoy (1765–1825). Translated from French.

Four Poems

A sonnet by Adela Zamudio (Bolivian, 1854–1928), translated from the Spanish.

Spring

Higher

Two poems by Louisa Siefert (1845–1877). Translated from French.

Two Poems

Flash fiction by Monique Debruxelles. Translated from French. I prop the corpse on the velvet armchair, get him nice and comfy. This second murder, I know, represents the culmination of my opus. Such a sense of achievement...

For Nanny

A short story by Monique Debruxelles. Translated from the French. We met one winter evening in a frigid, poorly maintained public library. The two of us shared a passion for South American literature, and so it was friendship at first sight.

The Girl Who Died on Our Doorstep

A short story by Monique Debruxelles. Translated from French. As they did at around four o’clock every Sunday, the brass band was setting up for a performance in the town park. Pauline Chartreux packed the chairs tightly just beside the pavilion...

Laura Nagle

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