Latest writing

Do Good and Evil Sometimes Sleep?

Where do they live?
Resul Jusufi · Essays · November 2026
For some time now, I have been dreaming of Good and Evil. Often, they rob me of my sleep. Their conversations are loud — sometimes hysterical, sometimes violent; sometimes so strange that it is impossible to tell whether they are arguing or remembering something that happened before humanity was born.I see them in the middle of the ocean, on the shattered remains of a ship swaying on the water. Then they appear in outer space, inside a spacecraft drifting among cold stars. Beyond the glass, everything seems weightless: time, the body, memory. Sometimes they appear in abandoned villages, riding old, rusted bicycles through streets where no human being remains. Often I see them riding horses. One horse is white, the other black. And always following them, for reasons I do not understand, is a goat. It does not hurry, yet it never falls behind. As if it knew the way better than the two of…
Art Gallery
Maryam Takalou — Mixed Media
Maryam Takalou · Mixed Media · November 2026
View the gallery →
Recent Pieces
View all writing →
Fiction
Institutional Love
Fiona Berry
It’s always cold. Snow falls off the roof sometimes. The building across from me is at eye level. I like to watch it fall.
Read →
Poetry
Marriage or Death
Elena Shakhnovsky
Marriage or death —
that's how all great novels end.
Life doesn’t offer you that false choice,
Read →
Creative Nonfiction
This House Never Is Quiet
Zahra Oveisi
I am afraid. Not of things, not of people — of everything. Not the kind of fear that comes suddenly and passes, but a fear that has settled into my bones, grown roots there, and…
Read →
Satire
The Last Kingdom
Marat Myrzakhmetov
Great empires rarely perish from catastrophic convulsions. More often than not, they simply fragment into individual rooms, corridors, and sanitary zones.
Read →
Screenplay
When the Black Swan Drowned.
Ahmed Sami
BLACK SCREENThe words slowly appear on screen:"What, conceivably, is the worst story your mind can weave when the melodies of Tchaikovsky's…
Read →
iExile Alcoves
Explore all →
Poetry
The pulse of language in its most unruly form.
Enter →
Fiction
Stories, disruptions, and other architectures.
Enter →
Translation
The world in another tongue.
Enter →
Satire
Sharp laughter. Serious intent.
Enter →
Essay
Ideas, interrogations, and personal maps.
Enter →
Creative Nonfiction
Truth, braided with form and fire.
Enter →
Fragment
Pieces of a larger, unresolved thing.
Enter →
Other
Hybrid, experimental, without borders.
Enter →
Plays
Voices for the stage and beyond.
Enter →
Screenplay
Written for the screen, scene by scene.
Enter →
Art
Visuals that won't sit still.
Enter →
From the archive
Jaia Papitz · 2018 · Poetry
A recovered text from the first iExile body — returned to circulation, not as nostalgia, but because it still burns.
Returned to circulation
2018 — Quest
Recovered text
2018 — Symboless
Recovered text
2018 — Of Else
Recovered text
From iExile Press
Bulă, or How We Invented Quantum
Bulă, or How We Invented Quantum
Jaia Papitz
A literary satire about laughter, bureaucracy, and the small cosmic errors that keep reality from sealing itself shut.

Get the E-book & dispatches, books, and texts the archive refused to lose.

Subscribe and we’ll send you Bulă, or How We Invented Quantum — plus occasional writing, book news, and things we find worth reading.

One email → E-book + newsletter. Unsubscribe anytime.

Buy us a glass — we take rainchecks too.

Support iExile if you’d like. No pressure, no account needed.

$
Support iExile →
No thanks, just the E-book
Beauty prevails since the puddle, unaware, always reflects the sky. — iExile
As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.