«When?» «Tomorrow». Martín’s voice arrived soft, as if his answer had smashed into the dirty window he was staring at. Arsenio one moment looked at him and another mirrored his thoughts in the jug of his dark beer on the table; Don...
  It will be cold, tonight. The old man knows it. The grass behind the dustbin is still damp, and the ground is wet. The earth is greedy, when it’s thirsty: it soaks your meat; it crushes your bones. It soaks through...
  Lazily strolling around the city centre on a sunny Saturday morning, unusual for the season, Mr. Persichetti, a surveyor, impeccable in his tailored suit, noticed that a figure on the opposite side of the street, with his back turned...
  I'll tell you the story of Ciclón while I’m brushing my hair. Actually, his name was Justicia and when he was a kid he had worked as a mule herder, a quiet job. The vast plains of Andalusia had...
  After taking a shower, Alice stood in front of her mirror, without looking at it. It was a large, vertical mirror, almost occupying the height of the wall. Her mother gave it to her. She stood there for a long...
  Mother, a small room will be enough. A kitchen and a small room with the bright light from the garden. A veranda. The kitchen and a veranda. I'm tired of dark corridors. The pain in my hands will disappear and...
   A dirty story of true jazz January 6th, 1987. I remember the date very well. What I need is just to forget it! On that bloody night I nearly ran the risk (oh, me the fibber!) of going to please...
  I came home in the evening, while long shadows were extending between the buildings, bridging at dusk. I crossed the main street and slipped into the narrow alleyway, unraveling among many crossroads, leading in front of my house. I...
  He could see himself as a child sitting on a rock beside the fire while his mother, her veil lifted and her nails black from soil, kneaded bread telling him the story of the kilim. «I was your age,...
  Five stitches on the right wrist, six on the left, Sam White had been marching non-stop for hours from wall to wall of his cell. Damn surgeon! How could he? The cuts he had inflicted on himself were perfect:...

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Barbara Ungar – Your Mother Serves Tongue

How could you put another creature’s tongue into your mouth? How could you bite, chew, swallow? Cannibal. Obscene. How could you tell the difference between a cow’s tongue and its delicious rump?...