Khalid with his brother Mohamed


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‘Early one morning in July 2003 I was woken by a phone call from a young man who I’d known since he was twelve.’
Khalid with his brother Mohamed


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‘“lol” is a way of asking for something – attention, reassurance, care or even love – while pretending not to ask for anything.’
Harriet Armstrong on what we really mean when we punctuate our text messages with ‘lol’.
‘“To gift” is no gift to me.’
Christian Lorentzen on transitive verbs.
‘Some line breaks coincide with the end of a sentence or phrase; others don’t.’
Maggie Millner on pauses, silences and choosing where to end the line.
‘The x was only really a kiss in context. It was a kiss depending on who sent it, and when. Otherwise it was affection, friendliness, and disguised aggression.’
Akshi Singh on language, letters, and when to leave a kiss.
‘This is language interrogating itself.’
Will Harris on Alice Notley’s ‘wrong’ quotation marks.
Alex Kotlowitz’s books include There Are No Children Here and, most recently, Chicago: Never a City So Real (Crown). He teaches writing at Northwestern University.
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‘He was an eminent historian of the United States, a perceptive social critic, and a professor at Columbia University. But as a dad he was playful and affectionate and irreverent.’
Dan Hofstadter on his father, the historian Richard Hofstadter.
‘I don’t remember much of my childhood, but I do remember this.’
Fiction by Johanne Lykke Holm, translated by Saskia Vogel.
‘We’re fine as we are, he said, what do we need kids for? And then time passed and eventually we couldn’t.’
Fiction by Krisztina Tóth, translated from the Hungarian by Owen Good.
‘Now – on Donald Trump’s eightieth birthday, and to mark the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence – seven cage fights would take place in a temporary arena on the South Lawn of the White House.’
Jordan Castro attends the UFC Freedom 250.
‘You should have seen him that night, though. I didn’t know what’d got into him.’
Fiction by Thomas Morris.
‘The whole family: yay. I love my family. (Don’t I.)’
Fiction by Victor Heringer, translated by James Young.