“Backwoods Fable” by Sigbjørn Skåden, published by Granta

Huuva looks around, confused, as the people around him start to join in. The fellow croons for a long time as he rocks the pot of fish soup, a choir of voices murmuring beneath him like birds gathered for the autumn migration. Then slowly, slowly, the choir gets quieter and quieter until the room is completely silent. The fellow lifts the pot to his lips and starts to drink. It runs down his chin and throat, fish heads and intestines smacking the table around his feet. When he finally lowers the pot, he falls to his knees right in front of Huuva. The fellow howls. A howl so terrible it’s like the insides of his body are being squeezed out of his flesh. Huuva jolts and tries to get to his feet, but someone behind him holds him down. Meanwhile the fellow undresses as he whimpers plaintively. Maybe it’s a joik.

Read the full translation in Granta.