Magazine
Fiction
Public Access
Pocket Money
Man Suk was a difficult person to be friends with. You couldn’t ask him for anything.
Poetry
Public Access
To save the cell-phone battery—
I keep looking out the window / because stopping cannot be seen.
Fiction
Public Access
Our Language
Like memory, language changes. Our words eddy around the things we fear.
Fiction
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Dublin, We Were
We can return home in our reflections, even when the city we knew, the city we were, has gone forever.
Diary
Public Access
The Monkey in the Whirlpool
That was the end of the dream. And then the man covered his face and began to cry, because he was reminded of his dead father, who once told him he had a gift.
Translated by Samuel Rutter
Fellow
Public Access
Meeting Points: Between and In Between Subject and Object
The articulation of a word dissolves, and the most carefully strung together sentence falls apart.
Cahiers
Public Access
Time’s Weather
I let myself be carried by my language as if it were endowed with tiny wings.
Translated by Alexander Booth
Fiction
Public Access
Mentor
I remembered the certainty I had had, hours before, of my own competence, the pleasure I had taken in the solace I could give.
Feature
Public Access
The Mausoleum of Lovers
I think that death, when it comes, is ardently desired by the body (abrupt spring shower), that it is just the respite from a fatal disgust.
Translated from the French by Nathanaël
Focus
Public Access
Backstroke
Sometimes I ask myself: How many swimming pools have I encountered throughout my life?
Translated from the Japanese by Motoyuki Shibata