Fiction

  • Cristina Rivera Garza
  • Tea
    Miranda Castro was, in her day, one of the most sought-after models in the United States. Despite her Latino surname, she had the look of a Scandinavian girl with that blonde hair, shimmering like whe...
  • Yuri Herrera
    When you are a pestilent being the world stops being pestilent. Or does it?
  • Veracruz Buses
    Only an idiot could believe that all Latinas could have the good luck of a J-Lo.
  • Rosario Castellanos
    Señora Justina stared, as if hypnotized, at the portrait of that dessert, with strawberries and merengue, which illustrated (in all its color) the recipe from the magazine.
  • Yoss
    By Yoss
    Her name may be Svieta, 11 years old, but she may look older. One of those typical girl-women of the tropics. From a poor family, a neighborhood on the outskirts, a broiler. Naughty, sure of hersel...
  • Enrique Serna
    —Oh, my dear daughter, what a miracle it is to see you again!
  • María Fernanda Ampuero
    Niña Ali was strange, strange even in her generosity. For example, she wouldn’t give us expired food or old clothes. She gave us the good things. The same as she ate and wore. Of course, her clothes w...
  • Vicenta Siosi
    Pretty, pretty pretty, my grandmother would call me. The lady who sold milk called me pretty and the lady who passed by every day on her donkey called me pretty. Any man who saw me said it, pretty, an...
  • Victoria de Stefano
    July 8: In the evening I have dinner at P’s house. It’s a longstanding invitation. P. has been a widower for around three years: the period that, according to the Chinese, bereavement should last. Wit...
  • Yoss
    By Yoss
    January. The 2:34pm sun enters the house unimpeded through the back window, barely held up by a clumsy piece of carpentry. The big rusted nails split through the wood. Only a sheet of nylon prevents t...
  • Rabanito al amanecer
    She has the face of someone who has just sworn off marriage: part wilted, part revived, neither of the factions ever too transparent.
  • Gallo
    Gerardo Montejo awoke with an evil foreboding, an empty feeling in his stomach, but one which nonetheless must have had its origin in his soul, wherever it was hidden.
  • El último zarpazo
    When he got home hours later, Felipe confirmed, with astonishment and dread, that his wife had actually left. According to their agreement, Julia had taken half of everything, plus what they had gotte...
  • Yoss
    By Yoss
    The door-slam sounds like a gunshot. With an empty expression and watery eyes, Julia keeps looking at the sheet of plywood shaking from the blow, for long seconds. Later she gets up, and with her hand...
  • Néstor Mendoza
    “Ever since the moment that he, the younger brother, was dead, everything else should have died too.” That sentence ties many knots between two or three characters; the next death will be one of their...
  • Gabriel Payares
    The clowns arrived one Saturday, after our morning shower and just as visiting hours were about to begin. It was a cold weekend sometime in either January or February. It’s hard to tell in this place....
  • Mayra Santos Febres
    All my life I've been told I should be afraid of women like her. But now I need her for thousands of reasons. I need to know what she knows. Know the people she knows. Get inside her. I need to see wi...
  • Three Horses
    Ed grabbed his shotgun and leaned out of the window. The road was deserted. The galloping, however, went on.
  • Tununa Mercado
    In the shadows, at the hour when objects have yet to vanish in the darkness and their contours can barely be perceived, at the hour when creatures tend to look alike, she circles round the room going...
  • Shoot the last one of them. Here they come. Shit. What’s wrong now? Another bug. Fucking bugs. I programmed it so that if she keeps the keys we couldn’t head back to pick the money. The app’s not work...
  • Lance Asper Beach
    We were in this bar, Sunday afternoon, sitting in a corner. The hour, hazy. I had been in the country for two and a half months. My friend Elis had put me up in her house, a two-room apartment on an i...
  • María José Navia Here
    She never imagined there’d be so many. She’s running late so she isn’t able to count them, but she’d say there’s at least fifteen. Even though it’s a Saturday night. And it’s ridiculously cold. Everyo...
  • Anatomy
    The headache began minutes after S. heard the last thunderclap, just the one that had sounded as if the remains of volcanic rock upon which the city had been built were adjusting themselves, preparing...
  • Jaime Collyer
    Just as the academic year was ending, the shipment from Trans-RUW came to his door, containing the sealed test-tube in which Foucault awaited, that realized possibility of a repli...

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