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Home2018September (Page 5)

September 2018

Let’s go back to the beginning..In those days, as the story goes, the world was at war; and when there’s war, things take on a different shape. The air was different, the people were different, and the smells were different. War smells like the absence of the things you once loved. I long for the smell of pine-sap and the fragrance of incense that surrounded the Villa Gardenia. War becomes the ghost of, say, a construction worker that seeps into people’s clothes and walks among them. It becomes different but not uncommon. War itself doesn’t often resemble its own name.

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Fiction
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At vero eos et accusamus et iusto odio dignissimos ducimus qui blanditiis praesentium voluptatum deleniti atque corrupti quos dolores et quas molestias excepturi sint occaecati cupiditate non provident, similique sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollitia animi, id est laborum et dolorum fuga. Et harum quidem rerum facilis est et expedita distinctio. Nam libero tempore, cum soluta nobis est eligendi optio cumque nihil impedit quo minus id quod maxime placeat facere possimus, omnis voluptas assumenda est, omnis dolor repellendus. Temporibus autem quibusdam et aut officiis debitis aut rerum necessitatibus saepe eveniet ut et voluptates repudiandae sint et molestiae non recusandae.

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Featured
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At vero eos et accusamus et iusto odio dignissimos ducimus qui blanditiis praesentium voluptatum deleniti atque corrupti quos dolores et quas molestias excepturi sint occaecati cupiditate non provident, similique sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollitia animi, id est laborum et dolorum fuga. Et harum quidem rerum facilis est et expedita distinctio. Nam libero tempore, cum soluta nobis est eligendi optio cumque nihil impedit quo minus id quod maxime placeat facere possimus, omnis voluptas assumenda est, omnis dolor repellendus. Temporibus autem quibusdam et aut officiis debitis aut rerum necessitatibus saepe eveniet ut et voluptates repudiandae sint et molestiae non recusandae.

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Featured
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At vero eos et accusamus et iusto odio dignissimos ducimus qui blanditiis praesentium voluptatum deleniti atque corrupti quos dolores et quas molestias excepturi sint occaecati cupiditate non provident, similique sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollitia animi, id est laborum et dolorum fuga. Et harum quidem rerum facilis est et expedita distinctio. Nam libero tempore, cum soluta nobis est eligendi optio cumque nihil impedit quo minus id quod maxime placeat facere possimus, omnis voluptas assumenda est, omnis dolor repellendus. Temporibus autem quibusdam et aut officiis debitis aut rerum necessitatibus saepe eveniet ut et voluptates repudiandae sint et molestiae non recusandae.

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Featured
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I sit cross-legged on my grandparents’ balcony. My dark, scarred knees are warm against the hot stone ground. My little brother, Fajr, lies on his stomach beside me, trying to figure out what his playing cards mean. My grandmother always said that we should pretend to let him play with us, even if he’s too young and too restless to learn the rules. She sits before me in a long floral gown, her wrinkled face like a map of the country, pride etched into her skin in valleys and mountains. The valley between her eyebrows sinks deeper as she stares

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Fiction
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Rumooz is a 68-year-old Syrian woman. Her husband was just 46 when he passed away, leaving her to raise one daughter and two sons on her own. She was a teacher at a public school in Talkalakh, a small village that is to the west of Homs, in northern Syria. Rumooz is very close to her children, and the four of them have always been a tight-knit family. In 2012, her eldest daughter, Talah, graduated from university in Homs. Dubbed "the capital of the revolution," Homs was under siege by government forces from May 2011 to May 2014. Despite the war,

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Non-Fiction
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In Beirut, we live surrounded by dead people looking at us. Joana Hadjithomas and Khalil Joreige   In Arabic, we say hay fina, they live within us. First, there is the terrible silence, then the sacrament: a visible sign of invisible grace, St Augustine said. A way to discover the unknown when the pain is too much, when it burns the air around us. Or, there will be                                                                                

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Poetry
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June 2014 Athens, Georgia, USA   A suicide car bomber shook Beirut on Monday                                                                                               During the World Cup match; The explosion wounded five people gathered                                                                

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Poetry
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Even on the saddest nightin times of servitudethere is always someone who resiststhere is always someone who says no Manuel Alegre, 1965   With every gust of wind blowing from the Atlantic and the Tagus, I could smell grilled Bacalhau((Portuguese codfish)) and sardines as I walked around downtown. The city’s hilly, tortuous, and narrow streets put every muscle in my body on trial. I enjoyed this every day for hours, until my feet couldn’t take it anymore. Everywhere, people carefully watched as fish roasted over hot coal on the sidewalks. There were bakeries around every corner that made the air smell distinctly sweet and

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Non-Fiction
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About Us
Rusted Radishes: Beirut Literary and Art Journal was founded in the English Department of the American University of Beirut in 2012 with the intention of creating a space for both emerging and established writers who have a connection to Lebanon.
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Letter from the Editor | كلمة المحرّرة

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