proudly supporting:
front page
Latest and greatest.
Editor's spotlight:
I turn and see Blake struggle up the pot-holed street. Directly above him, an old woman smokes on a balcony, her bare arms resting on its metal railing.
Blake looks like a tourist. An American tourist. Which he is. Basketball vest, baggy shorts, battered trainers. A back-to-front baseball cap. Two years in London haven’t softened his edges…
most recent:
fiction
21/11/24
terence hughes
flash
10/11/24
Elysia Rourke
poetry
10/11/24
chad Frame
Script
10/11/24
Anthea Jones
flash
27/10/24
Melanie Mulrooney
poetry
27/10/24
Chad frame
fiction
27/10/24
Lisa Vitale
flash
13/10/24
Karen Walker
fiction
13/10/24
Lisa Vitale
The full selection can be found on our dedicated page: The Word-Hoard. Or keep scrolling.
Welcome, fantasist!
Some announcements:
- Jun 3: We're back, baby! (Shiny new site design, too.)
- Jun 3: Submissions are open again: prose, scripts and poems. You'll find the link if you scroll.
- Jun 3: Please support literacy for adults. We love Read Easy, a charity whose link is at the top.
- Jan 8: We've deleted our social media pages. Ain't nobody got time for that.
- Jan 1: This one's here just to round things up to 5 announcements. Happy New Year, you.
[ˈfɪkʃn]
- literature in the form of prose that describes imaginary events and people
- something that is invented or untrue
Summer is winding to a close, and it has been three weeks since Eleni returned from the city hospital. She contacted them yesterday, postponing going back for her next placement. A polite, rational email which did not match how she felt.
Her mother has sold the small patch of farmland – no sons, only Eleni, with her deft mind full of medicine and her hands and hair scented by antiseptic – and the hilled, undulating land belongs to another farmer now. It is impossible for her to think that she will never again see her father – his thick back, sturdy arms – bending over the rolled nets of caught olives.
Eleni is managing her aunt’s shop while she is away. Isidora had looked at her niece, returned from the thrum of A&E rooms, still young, still a student, and sensing her thorned anger and her loss, had led her to her workshop. In the cool space of the pottery room, protected from the sun by thick, white walls, she sat…
He had always known the line of his life: to be as other men of his like and station. How that was to be achieved was far less important than the fact that it was achieved; that he had maintained what needed to be maintained until early…
I found him at the bar. ‘May I join you, Your Highness?’
‘Glad to have the company.’ He motioned vaguely to the stool beside him. ‘I’m not the king anymore, so you can skip the formalities. Call me Ed.’
terence hughes
Lisa Vitale
Matt Gillick
Harry Dobbs
Claire Jaggard
Lara Hurley
Rebecca Miles
Michael Trafford
Imagine not being able to read.
no !nt3rn3t. no 8ook5.
no 8!r7hd@y [@rd5.
Please take a look at Read Easy’s website.
[ˈpəʊɪtri]
literary work in which the expression of feelings and ideas is given intensity by the use of distinctive style and rhythm; poems collectively or as a genre of literature
I hope not to burn in Hell forever but
burn in Heaven, be on fire for Jesus
as our Sunday School teacher says it,
burning the very best way she sings out
so Sunday after church I returned to
our classroom, empty then but for God and
Jesus and the Holy Ghost and me and
Miss Hooker and the Flag and Washington
and Lincoln, and caught her smoking Salems
as she was stacking our hymnals and I
didn’t know what to say, smoking’s a sin
and fetches Hell faster than anything
save ladies’ naked bosoms and butt-cracks
on refrigerator repairmen and…
Sunday evening finds us in the kitchen.
You’re washing up, I’m rolling flatbreads out
with tension like a mortise in my gut.
We’ve heard the news: a relative of yours,
a garden afternoon, a sudden slip,
and somehow, that was it. My hands still grip
the rolling pin, yours soak in a dishless sink.
We glance towards the fissure, look for ways
to say in silence what we need to say…
Is your person wearing a hat? Mark asks, leaning
his metal folding chair against the cabin wall
with a creak, steepling his fingers behind his head.
I’m looking at the sunbeams streaming through
the open windows, the gauzy curtains flapping
lazily in late July breeze, terns on the wing
over the lake, my hands, the game’s plastic tiles,
the plastic rows of cartoon faces, anything at all
to avoid staring at the bulging baseballs
of his biceps, toned by years of throwing,
chasing, lifting, tackling, hitting, pinning—
No, I blurt, and he grins, all pearls and opals…
Chad Frame
Christopher Jones
Colin Dardis
RT Castleberry
Lisa Stone
Gordon Meade
Charity Reed
Thomas Dedola
Written something and want us to read it?
You should definitely visit our submissions page.
[flaʃ]
- a brief fictional narrative
- a sudden brief burst of bright light
- a patch or sudden display of a bright colour
- ostentatious stylishness or display of wealth
“Mare’s tails and mackerel scales
Make tall ships take in their sails.”
She’s studied the weather and knows about clouds which is why her lips are thin and tight. She does not want to tell him about the promotion. Tonight, she…
Leaving dusk behind, I slip into the library’s light. Coat on the peg, I slink into the corner.
Slumped on the floor, back against the radiator, is my spot. Miss Robin, the librarian, comes over with hot chocolate…
A postcard of a bear. I flip it over and read Dave’s writing (It’s me! Missing you.), then drop it behind the coffee machine, a space normally reserved for brown envelopes and CVs.
Sandra sprays and wipes the empty…
1. The Blue-ringed Octopus lives in colourful coral reefs. It relies on the rocks and crevices in its environment for refuge.
A customer wants to speak to the manager, but I’m trying to write my essay on cephalopods and their dedication…
The room seems to have more shadows with it bare. Empty shelves. There had been vases and books and objects, articles of life. Modern art in oak frames; how cultured they were, their easy touch of class…
The history books said that it must take place on the twenty-second of January.
Lying in bed, dressed in a plain white gown, head covered by a lace veil decorated with myrtle leaves, Alex Osborne wondered if people would be angry…
Elysia Rourke
Melanie Mulrooney
Karen Walker
Anne Wilkins
Marcelo MEdone
Stephen Newland
Sean Glatch
Polly Halladay
Kim Dickinson
David Kotok
John Sheirer
competitions past
We did some writing competitions last year. We might do some more again.
three rounds. three inspirations.
Check out the inspirations, judge’s comments and all the rest here.
round 1
round 2
round 3
The Top 10 of our first-ever flash fiction competition. Fandabidozi.
Our full report is here.
team results
