Category: Translation ·· Spanish
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“The Game”
Patricia Esteban Erlés; Megan Berkobien :: They’ll cut all my hair off in that creepy school for bad little girls, they’ll make me wear a sack, they’ll shut me up in a room filled with rats and cockroaches and all I’ll have to drink is the rainwater I can catch in my hands through the…
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“Ulva Lactuca”
Cristina Peri Rossi; Megan Berkobien :: Buy a mattress of… He had wanted to try out a new waterbed, but she had thought it an excessive investment. Investment, no, he corrected himself: an expense. Aboard that aquatic mattress, they could have paddled themselves through life, hardly swaying, rowing – arms crossed, excuse me, in cross,…
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“Milky Way”
Cristina Peri Rossi; Megan Berkobien :: There were so many stars he felt he saw them not only through his eyes, not only did they flood his pupils and retinas and irises and eyelashes and the lake of his brow, but suddenly the stars invaded him, penetrating him through his ears, assailing his hearing, filling…
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“By Night We Howl”
Care Santos; Megan Berkobien :: But, what does a mountain of books matter when compared to the iron bridges, the concrete masses, the skyscrapers hurdled into the void? We heard them fall piece by piece, one by one. First the glass gave way, then the iron and cement frames. The entire city began to corrode.…
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Selections from “Doll House”
Patricia Esteban Erlés; Megan Berkobien :: FRESH MEAT I like opening the fridge and finding you there. Read the full selection here.
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“Music and Petals”
Gabriela Damián; Megan Berkobien :: In the depths of my head the melody booms alongside a groan, deep and dry; the combination submerges me in a thick drowsiness. I feel so heavy that I sink, I feel like all of me is paralyzed, but the strangest part is that it’s not my body that can’t…
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“The Bridge”
Gabriela Damián; Megan Berkobien :: I’m out in the open air, in the sun. The treetops are green and high up. I walk through tall grass, which whispers with the passing of a cool wind, almost cold, reminiscent of early spring. My grandparents’ house, where my aunt lived all her life, stands in front of me…
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“Ne Me Quitte Pas”
Cristina Peri Rossi; Megan Berkobien :: “I took hundreds of photos of her—of her standing, lying down, on one side of the bed, on the other, laughing, naked, dressed, in the street, in the bathtub, caressing a child or a cat. I photographed her breasts, her pubic hair, her armpits, the nape of her neck,…
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“Confession”
Care Santos; Megan Berkobien :: I admit it: I once killed a journalist. Read the full story here.
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“After Hours”
Cristina Peri Rossi; Megan Berkobien :: She understood because she suddenly started looking at him with a deeper sadness, if that were possible, as if she needed a lot of help, What bullshit those trafficking sons of bitches must have told you: Spain, a country of sun, beaches, flounce and frills, flamenco dancers wherever you go,…
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