To Dance With You Again
Erni Aladjai
A little before sunset, my mother brought a twenty-day-old newborn boy to our house. Three days before he was brought home, a 6.5 Richter earthquake shattered our island.
The Southerners Must Perish Tonight
Faisal Oddang
We were forced into official religions, made to document our betrayal on our ID cards, and stray away from our God–Dewata Sewwae. We were helpless to do anything but acquiesce, with bitter hearts.
The Bloodstone
Pratiwi Juliani
No one has ever questioned whether the fruit they ate grew from the bodies of the dead that lied under the earth. Here, grief is an eternal holding that casts its shadow over its families.
The Curse
Muna Masyari
My body is wrapped in mori. My hair is loose. I’m kneeling on the ground, like a statue of a prince, facing a prince’s final resting place.
ArcHive of the Bees
Lamisse Hamouda
There was something off about including living bees in an art exhibition for the purpose of reflecting upon dependency and collaboration.
From the Domain of Fire
Raka Ibrahim
We don’t know whether our ancestors were there to witness the tragedy, whether they saw how the sky blossomed from orange to black.
When the Earth was a Cube
Rio Johan
One day, out of nowhere, God decided he was bored with earth’s rounded, dreary shape. It’s been that way since the first seconds of creation.
Visions
Rashida Murphy
And here we are now. Immeasurably grateful to be safe, alive and virus-free in this place we’ve called home for most of our lives. Guilty too.
In the Wake of a Dawn Prayer
Awi Chin
It was the brink of dawn when I had just finished my prayers, and once again, my faith was being put to the test.
To Vanish into the South
Gladhys Elliona
After my graduation, I put on a radiant smile…but it wasn’t what I really felt. I was confused…I didn’t know where I would go.
The Apostate’s Tapestry
Atul Joshi
How does it feel to be left behind? I suspect the resulting grief rises not only from the emotions of loss, but of what they signified.
Those of the Sea / The Voyagers
Muhammad Wahyudi
Beyond these walls, the waves were assaulting us ferociously, with just a very thin line separating that black ocean and the fate of our people.
Hadrah: a Memoir of Solitude
Adil Alba
He stopped and remained silent. His eyes are wide-open to the ship’s wooden deck, as if his nightmares are crawling through its cracks.