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Articles tagged "Domestic Abuse"

from “Broken Glass Park”

I hate men. Anna says good men do exist. Nice, friendly men who cook and help clean up and who earn money. Men who want to have children and give gifts and book vacations. Who wear clean clothes, don’t drink, and even look halfway decent. Where on earth are they, I ask. She says they’re out there—if not in our town then in Frankfurt. But she doesn’t know any personally, unless you count people she’s seen on TV. That’s why I always repeat the words...

from “Sentimental Education”

The woman gave birth to a baby girl at the maternity hospital and then disappeared the very same day. Located not far from downtown Isezaki-cho, the maternity hospital was well known as a place where many of the girls who worked as hostesses in Yokohama went for abortions. The woman arrived at the hospital alone, gave birth to the child alone, and then left alone. She never once held her baby in her arms, nor did she give her a name. When she left the hospital room, she tried not to...

From “God Tells Them All”

Sotiris Dimitriou's novels and short stories are known for their focus on the underside of contemporary Greek society, in particular the experiences of an immigrant underclass. Importantly, they are equally well-known for their daring and provocative use of language: Dimitriou mixes a number of ethnically marked vernaculars and registers of language to recreate the Greek language and also challenge the preconceptions of a mainstream reader. Dimitriou thus places language at the very...

Road to Heaven

When my mother died, her face changed. I was the first to notice. When other family members and friends came to pay their respects, what I saw in their eyes was doubt; none could believe that the deceased was my mother. Even my brother, who hadn't seen my mother alive for three years, when viewing her corpse, straightaway announced that the deceased was our aunt, the youngest girl in my mother's family. The doctors and nurses who had cared for Mother when she was in the hospital...

The Rooms Out Back

My husband and I always rise at 7:30 when the shadow of the cat crossing the tiled roof of our neighbor's house forms a silhouette on our bedroom curtain. Who can figure out why that cat, without any training, has made it his routine to cast his shadow on our curtains every morning but because that is what the cat does every morning, its silhouette has become for the two of us a kind of alarm. I said we rise at 7:30 but we actually wake up at 4:30—before our baby's first...

Joan

He just loved that little gizmo. Actually, he didn't like it much at first, because he was hot all over and was running a temperature, while that thing was cool, and he shuddered when it got pressed against him. He turned away and made a face. His head was all wet. But he didn't complain, because by then it was already hard for him to cry. He could only groan hoarsely and shut his eyes. But then he began to reach for it, anyway. Because it was shiny. "You want me to listen to...

from “Leyla”

My teacher was standing at the entrance to the schoolyard, watching me as I walked away. Now finally I can hide the front part of me from him, and I unbutton my white smock collar, holding the ends together so it won't fall off. I am sure blood will soon be gushing from my nose. The candy-store man has gone back into his cave-like shop. Caramel candy sticks wrapped in a cloth napkin lie piled like pieces of wood in the shop window. I'd love to stop and look at them for a long...

You Don’t Have to Reach Heaven

The sun reflects off the asphalt. For the hundredth time, Ishmael shades his eyes with his hand to his visor, and he sees the truck. "Five!" calls out the amarillo.1 The couple climbs on, the old woman, the girl, and Ishmael, in that order. The old red Ford displays, thanks to its owner's inspiration, a faked coat of arms of the Transportation Ministry: a white headed eagle lifted from the Harley-Davidson trademark emblem. Rather than hunting for himself, the eagle is snatching...

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