‘Mercy’ by Kathy Pimlott

  I dream forgetfully, retain just a suggestion of something thwarted. My husband dreams of murder, all hands-on: noose, bludgeon, knives. He’s under orders to kill, demurs, he says, in vain. This is a man who dispatches prolapsed chickens, mice, once a muntjac fawn half-garrotted on a wire fence, a man who salts ox tongue, the great muscle sitting outside five days in a big … Continue reading ‘Mercy’ by Kathy Pimlott

‘Oxytocin’ by Betty Doyle

  It’s like nobody has ever done the dishes together before – on a Wednesday, with all the kitchen lights on and the moon huge, lemon-yellow. The quiet clatter of china meeting in the sink. The low hum of the fridge as its motor clicks in. I love these sounds, their taking place in the arrangement of our life, the simple way they present themselves … Continue reading ‘Oxytocin’ by Betty Doyle