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Magazin za književnost i umjetnost // Journal for literature and arts

Oznaka

short story

Hitler with Lipstick

Mrs B was old school. Really old school. There was something vaguely Victorian about her, hair pinned back severely, glasses perched on the end of her nose, (perfectly positioned for glaring over the top of) dresses that came up to... Continue Reading →

Lakes

“lakes!” he shouted. This was a word I heard many times in my youth in Tuam. I grew up in the arse end of nowhere, and my formative exposures to culture were a collective of seemingly random and incoherent words... Continue Reading →

Barriers

Had she smiled wider because he was black? She could feel the ingratiating grin spread over her face and then tense as she quickly returned her attention to her drink. They were alone out there on the smoking terrace. It... Continue Reading →

Mr. Ali’s Driver (V)

14 The next morning, I went to see Abdullah at home. The boy was fine. It was Mr. Ali who looked as if he had been defeated. “Will you drive me?” he asked me with a broken voice.  I helped... Continue Reading →

The Shadow

When I was fifteen years old, my family moved out of our small flat, and into a spacious interior, on the third floor of a new apartment complex. The complex was five storeys high, and stood adjacent to its twin.... Continue Reading →

Mr. Ali’s Driver (IV)

10 I was eager to talk to Hannah and Mariam.  I wanted to hear Hannah’s voice. I needed to hear about what she did that day.  Did she go to the market with Mariam? I thought to myself all day.... Continue Reading →

Mr. Ali’s Driver (III)

7 The week went by fast. My routine was simple. I got up, got ready, and headed to the house. I always left the apartment at least half an hour early, to avoid getting stuck in traffic. I picked up... Continue Reading →

Mr. Ali’s Driver (II)

4 We pulled up to a covered parking lot. There were spaces for three cars, and Ahmed occupied the last one.  I opened the door, and felt the anxiety that I was expecting to feel. It wasn’t the job that... Continue Reading →

Mr. Ali’s Driver (I)

1 It was so quiet. As I waited for my bag, I only heard murmurs of dissatisfied travelers, and men in uniforms constantly repeating one or two instructions. Sheikh Saad Airport was not a big airport, or at least it... Continue Reading →

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