:: Fiction archive ( 2000-2005, click for articles pre-2006)

The Game For Real by Richard Weiner – An Excerpt published 03/04/2015

The Game for Real

The following day, strolling on the ramparts, on top of which people lived—the only wise people in this petty-bourgeois town—who didn’t even fake curiosity, he was suddenly handed—it had just gotten dark—a key: “Qui veut faire l ’ange, fait la bête.” – Not words, not a thought. Qui veut faire l’ange, fait la bête. – Like a thing he grasps in his hand, a thing forged with care, with distinct, even somewhat exaggerated contours, a thing that has weight, and that unlocks. A key.

An excerpt from Richard Weiner‘s The Game for Real, translated by Benjamin Paloff.

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Jeremy Clarkson v. JG Ballard’s Crash published 02/04/2015

Red-Car-Crash

The walls of his apartment near to the film studios were covered with photographs of Clare Balding, who was neither Irish or Mexican, nor did she have any known resentment of motor vehicles. In his vision of a car crash with the presenter, Clarkson was obsessed by the impact of their two cars meeting head-on in complex collisions endlessly repeated in slow-motion. (Sometimes even imagining her mounted upon a horse as she rode perpendicular to his accelerating Maserati, but mostly they were both seated in cars). He was measured as he verbally catalogued the resulting damage and explicitly detailed wounds. Noticing his heavy, denim-clad groin I was momentarily quieted by the distinct profile of his aroused manhood. In an effort to make the beast subside, I mentioned the Vauxhall Vectra.

Jeremy Clarkson and J. G. Ballard collide in Graham Bendel‘s cheeky mash-up.

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Jim Froydon’s Lines published 31/03/2015

“About a foot, a foot and a half. Egg-shaped. A round base and it tapers up towards the top. It’s smooth. Yesterday it was smoother. It’s hard. Metal. A hard plastic. When we first brought it home it seemed a lot softer. It’s gotten harder. There are ridges now, around the base.

How does she.

What?

Breastfeed. How does she breastfeed?

I don’t know. Ask her.”

New fiction by Thomas McMullan, with art by Anastasia Kashian.

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Sphinx by Anne Garréta – An Excerpt published 30/03/2015

Sphinx

Remembering saddens me still, even years later. How many exactly, I don’t know anymore. Ten or maybe thirteen. And why do I always live only in memory? Soul heavy from too much knowing, body tired from feeling pensive and powerless at the same time, so riven by this obsessive ennui that nothing, or almost nothing, can distract it anymore. Back then, if I recall correctly, I used to describe the world as a theater where processions of corpses danced in a macabre ball of drives and desires. My contempt and ennui did not, however, keep me from observing how this dance dissolved into an amorous waltz.

Excerpt from Sphinx by Anne Garréta, translated by Emma Ramadan.

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Greatest Living Poet published 16/03/2015

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“The Greatest Living Poet is kind to stray cats and urban foxes. He carries old bones and offcuts of meat in his pockets to feed them. He has his own, thoughtfully chosen names for them, and remembers their individual histories.

The GLP reads The Sun and watches reality television shows, and if asked why, he will say, “Oh, I have a positive addiction to the meanest trash”.”

New fiction by Matthew Sterling, with art by Anastasia Kashian.

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Looking for Barbara Loden published 08/03/2015

“We seemed to have run out of things to say. Then the young man put his hands on the table and announced resolutely that he wanted above all to avoid metaphor, to avoid allegory and metaphor. He looked at his hands as though he were about to lean down, stand up and leave…”

An exclusive pre-publication excerpt from Suite for Barbara Loden by Nathalie Léger, trans Natasha Lehrer & Cécile Menon

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Portage published 15/02/2015

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That night Debra dreams she’s at home and looking into the bathroom mirror. A swarm of insects mass darkening in the glass. In its inexorable turn it takes on the shape of her own features. Seeing herself becoming what she sees entails a kind of disintegration. The dream ends as suddenly as it begins.

An extract from Karen Whiteson’s forthcoming novel.

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Formal Place Setting published 14/02/2015

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Noun: Fork
Gender: Male
Often we end up on the floor. (We like to be close to the devil). We sing tunes there that no one can hear. (Except the devil.) We miss ice cream. (We miss the devil.) We’re sons of acquiescence. (And the devil.) We adopt the recovery position. We spare excessive delicacy. We’re revolutionaries.

New fiction by Sophie Collins and Livia Franchini, with art by Anastasia Kashian.

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Fiction Call for Submissions published 30/01/2015

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Fiction submissions are open for a limited period…

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Steph n Deaf published 26/01/2015

“I’m Steph and my man eeze deaf. We lost our place cause we couldn’t keep up with the bills so we’re squatting this broke down van back of a building-site. Right now we’re a-walking along the Marylebone Road from Baker Street. Have to go slow cause E can’t keep up. Hasn’t been hisself since E drove is bike into them petrol pumps. Eeze lookin well, you’d never think there was sumpthink the matter with im.”

New fiction by Jay Merrill, with a painting by Anastaisa Kashian.

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