The Voice
“He stared at what was left of the dog, a flattened sack of pulpy goo, doused in blood. The dog’s button eyes stared back at him.” By Omar Gilani, from The Missing Slate’s fiction workshop in Islamabad.
Read More“He stared at what was left of the dog, a flattened sack of pulpy goo, doused in blood. The dog’s button eyes stared back at him.” By Omar Gilani, from The Missing Slate’s fiction workshop in Islamabad.
Read More“They threw acid on her while she slept. I heard it got all the way down to her hands. Her flesh melted like a wax candle.” By Umamah Wajid, from The Missing Slate’s fiction workshop in Islamabad.
Read More“…if this were a movie, your life ought to flashback before your eyes, projected on the silver curtain of your consciousness.” By Asfand Waqar, from The Missing Slate’s fiction workshop in Islamabad.
Read More“I took a photograph in which Lucy looks at me while Philip lovingly touches her young shoulder with his young nose.” By Veera Jansa, from The Missing Slate’s fiction workshop in Islamabad.
Read More“The assumption that these men were riding off to their deaths becomes more entrenched… they seem achingly innocent.” By Ahmer Naqvi, from The Missing Slate’s fiction workshop in Islamabad.
Read MoreBen Hynes begins his coverage of the 2014 Vancouver International Film Festival with capsules on ‘Two Days, One Night’, ‘Goodbye to Language’, ‘A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night’ and ‘Listen Up Philip’.
Read MoreChristine Jin reviews ‘Foxcatcher’ and ‘Wild’ in her first dispatch from this year’s Toronto International Film Festival.
Read MoreSt. Lucian poet John Robert Lee asks the ‘What is Poetry?’ question, reaching the conclusion that every poem needs to contain truth, beauty and harmony.
Read MoreContinuing our series on post-internet poetry, Leo Mercer argues for the adoption of free spelling.
Read MoreChuck Williamson revisits Edwin S. Porter’s ‘Laughing Gas’ (1907), a film which ‘traffics in racial spectacle.’
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