Through the crack, you could see the smiling face of a gray-haired woman.

My people, why do I behold you of sweet rice with honey all unaware?

I went to look for Martín even though he didn't like for me to go all the way to the riverbank.

Water as smooth as brocade flowed with boundless dignity toward somewhere over the horizon.

A Spanish exile in New York hears his past calling out to him in this story by Spanish writer Antonio Muñoz Molina.

Ben, do you know why the dreams of children are always corrupted in the mouths of adults?

The bears are tame, I broke them in myself.

Ernst Spengler was alone in his attic apartment, ready to throw himself out the already open window when, suddenly, the telephone rang

So what is the moment? What does it look like?

Spreading out like a dense forest, shaking and rippling like a field of corn combed by the north wind, a hypnotic wave, a river above craggy peaks, the flock is like a cloud-filled sky when a storm is…

Captain Jonasen followed the dotted line in the atlas with his finger.

My only son has a soul mate I'm not fond of.

Edo was standing next to her, half a head taller, his arm wrapped firmly around her so she wouldn't blow away even though there was no wind.

After the rain, the clouds shrank and the sky shone silver.

I didn't understand him, he didn't understand me.

On one of many occasions Greta Garbo visited her fellow actress Marilyn Monroe in her home town, the City of Angels.

Basically nobody had doubts about the name of A-Gump.

I am a countrywoman.

At the time, young wives in our village didn't have regular names.

You noticed the way she came over, her chest out, eyes narrowed? She's interested.

Dong Putao hadn't been at work long when a shadow passed over the door.

A crabby Spanish widow meets her match during her travels in Madagascar in this story by Spanish writer Nicolás Casariego.

Time is so complicated, yet so simple!

Some witnesses claimed to have seen a dragon, others a dinosaur.

The druggist has closed up shop without a word to anyone, the scoundrel, and it's not even five o'clock.

Perused that evening by lamplight, that essay made the schoolmistress' hair stand on end.

Balancing the World on His Chin The posters advertising movies or dances were not the only ones that occasionally clamored for our attention from Olleros’ walls and tree trunks. Sometimes, too,…

A character knocked on the door of the woman with short hair. Tapping timidly with her knuckles, the character entered the room without making a sound. She’s a modestly dressed mountain woman. On…

Two newlyweds become enraptured and inseparable in this story by Spanish writer Ray Loriga.

In these wicked times people aren't interested in wings. Even at two for the price of one.

He had felt restless all autumn, but without understanding why.

The first time you slept with Jak was the day after he came to declare his intentions to your parents.

Now was the time to ask for a recommendation from David.

No one was surprised by his arrival.

Shouldn't the leader of the National Front be held responsible for the murder committed by one of his brainwashed teenaged supporters?

Asbjørn Hall didn't argue....He'd never argued.

First things first: I didn't write the book everyone thinks I wrote, the one that has been showering me with fame and riches since its publication, just over one year go.

His real name was probably Max Mirebalais, although we will never know for sure.

The wheat pointed to the glorious future: of glorious harvests in the glorious times to come once Communism had been realized.

I glanced at the wreath against the tombstone and was amazed to read my own name on it

. . . then the sun began to set.

He had bought two ice creams and with a sad look on his face was offering them to her so she could choose.

Every night, seat and man, wood and flesh, cuddle up together

Much in the same way that for thirty years he's been incapable of breaking the rules, today he just doesn't see himself having the heart to comply with them.

You will never know the real reason. I will never tell you.

When the plane has almost come to rest, he sees an angel.

The day, along with Ismael, was dying.

I'm so alone. Roberto. (91) 3077670.

This is how Sue gave her life to God and got back her virginity.

And Mister Mozart didn't fasten his seatbelt either, the little monster tattled.

On my first day, I was overcome with dread.

Who, these days, hasn't woken from a dream of murdering an angel?

Yes, now I drink the amber, Scotch. Because of my liver, you know.

I have always been intrigued by the fact that cows in India are sacred.

I have a feeling that it is a mistake to go to the party at Mr. M.'s, especially under the circumstances.

I had to die to find out whether anybody loved me. When alive, I was never very popular, and it was a real problem for me that I fought very vigorously and quite without success. At home, if I didn’t…

Perhaps because I'd smelled this coming, I didn't try to fight back.

The man faces the mirror. He has just shaved and taken a shower.

We had quarreled earlier and I was almost in tears when he was buying the tickets.

Eduard, God doesn't play dice . . . he usually declares when we find ourselves up a blind alley or suddenly have a stroke of good luck.