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SHORT STORIES/TRUYỆN NGẮN

Trần Băng Khuê | The Vows (6)

The moon was bright red. My fingers in the dirt. The lumps of soft earth broke away, revealing a tongue that has disintegrated, turned black. My useless tongue. The tongue that could not keep its word. Then suddenly there it was, I discovered another tongue by it. It was tarried by the soil, but it was still clear that it was still fresh, its flesh damp with blood. I was very confused, for sure I had never buried such a tongue. Who’s tongue is this? Where did it come from? Why would anyone want to cut their tongue off and bury it as I did?

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ART

Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm | Trần Băng Khuê

Trần Băng Khuê, author of a selection of published short stories. You will find a couple of her translated short stories here on SONGNGUTAITRAM and Litviet.

Categories
SHORT STORIES/TRUYỆN NGẮN

Trần Băng Khuê | The Caterpillars contained in jars (5)

The summer was pouring liquid fire. Again a redundant observation, clearly every summer there’s a fire, especially here. There has never been a cool summer. I’ve seen the white clouds in the blue sky each morning. They’re deceiving, delivering such a soothing fresh day. But, immediately, within moments, the sky may turn grey yet noon. The grey horizons usually paired with annoying dark clouds.

Categories
SHORT STORIES/TRUYỆN NGẮN

Trần Băng Khuê | a dark neighbourhood – khu phố tối (3)

By Trần Băng Khuê, translation by Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm