Riwa Saab it so happens i’ve failed as a daughter. i don’t callenough. i left, and i don’t plan on coming back soon. they said i can only meet god in my homeland. such a shame,all the people that will never meet god, because they’ve never been to my homeland. because of the stressi’ve begun grinding my … Continue reading night guard

            Helen Bowell I wouldn’t want to be murdered around hereNeither would IHe’s such a nice guy, you’d never suspect itI didn’t realise you were that closeI’m trying to gauge what the consensus isIt’s another bloody layer to unpick and I’m not very good at unpicking themWhat is frustrating to me is like I know who … Continue reading A little game that could result in death

            Kate Wakeling came scolding. It thoughtno one was listening anymore.It scratched at every surface,setting down the frost, over andagain like a grievance.It shook the air to crystal;how stiffly we had to breathe.The light was ruinedand the black trees terrified.They could only shoo us away.I knelt before winterand said, winter, let us be.I showed it the … Continue reading Winter

            Michael Naghten Shanks interrupts my favourite TV weatherman, mid-sentence, folding him neatlyinto his own shadow on the hot sand.Death pleads with us lunchtime viewers—Save the Goliath frog!Like a flag planted in the sand, Death’s scythedraws a drunk, plump, ham-toned manto emerge from the thronggathering to see what ice pops are for sale.My kingdom for a … Continue reading As we eat our Greek salad lunch Death

            Jack Westmore Together, we crossed the bridgewhich had once carried water into Lisbon, and in the distance, spiedthe other, more beautiful bridge, like a mirage, which spannedthe Tagus with its stream of glittering traffic. Two bridges that bridgedseparate bodies of water, like sentences in a paragraph,or brothers who struggle to have something in common.The afternoon … Continue reading Aguas Livre

            Jo Rigg There was a lot of waiting.A succession of bland rooms in the last of which Single Ladiesby Beyoncé was on the TV. I’m not making this upand it was before the sedation. I will admit to some wooziness after.There was no tea and biscuits to help me recover. Or maybethere was and I … Continue reading A day out at Marie Stopes

            David Harrison Horton There are mechanics and the soundsof wind that accompany every startof winter. I will not try to think too muchabout squirrel hibernationor my neighbor’s pigeons.They will get by,make do. Having never seen a mustard seed,I do like the parablesabout them. Having never been inside a black hole,I like to imagine the singularnon-existenceof … Continue reading Ode to the Dead Internet Bots

            Suze Kay Here is how it started: the river meanderedfrom the crow’s path and folded into silt.Little ribbon river full of fish, sunaddledswimming in a wet bed. Here, said the first man.He stopped his wagons and pulled heavy pinsfrom the yokes of his oxen. They set themselveslowing to the sedges. They died as all things … Continue reading On Ribbon Lake

            Kexin Huang A mooncake isn't just a moonas a cackle or a moon trappedin a case or a laughter too roundedto roll into a box or too octagonalto be a Chinese porcelain tearin an English-speaking museumor too yellow to be blue at allor too blue to be celebratedin a Chinese supermarket in Londonor a childhood … Continue reading Mooncake

            Ollie O'Neill I too have mistaken my good handfor a slammed door. Carried my own blood. When they asked where? I was too tired, tryingto hammer a nail into a ghost, to think about specifics. I’m aware I was a girl once but I feltmore like a choir, a chorus of murmuring. I didn’t say … Continue reading Little Proof