Brown Flour I was talking to Mehmet. The chat was dragging out, for two reasons. One, he was lying. Two, the impatient queue behind me was too terrified to interrupt us. In keeping with the times, each person was keeping a self-preserving distance from the next. “Seán, I am not lying to you,” said the […]
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all the tiny mouths There must have been hundreds of them, maybe thousands, but only on the one wall. They fit their small, black bodies closely together by pointing their wings upward, displaying the light tangerine colour beneath. In this way, they painted the wall a warm triptych that made her think of fall and
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Inspirations #2 ‘Inspirations’ is our sometime feature where our writers delve into the genesis of their work and/or their creative process. Follow the links to fall in love with them all over again, or visit our ever-growing Archive to discover new favourites. Be sure to check out Inspirations #1, too. Contents: 1. Lara Hurley 2.
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Better Things Reading time: about 2-3 minutes 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 tables for the second time this hour, while I
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Letters to Constance Reading time: about 2-3 minutes Mayfair: April 27, 1814 Dearest Constance, The excitement of our arrival in London cannot overshadow my continued despair that you shall miss this season. I petitioned Mama without end during our long days in the carriage, yet she persists in her view that I must present first.
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Himalayan Blues Reading time: about 10-15 minutes Week 17, Wednesday March 12th 1913 How I wish I had never heard of this infernal flower. I have gazed upon it many times in my feverish dreams, so desperate am I to see it for myself. As it now stands, my quest is temporarily thwarted. I lie
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One Step at a time Reading time: about 20 minutes Early morning, the dawn weaker than milky tea. At the bedroom window, mug in hand, Dulcie watches the cars and buses creep—slow and stop, then creep—slow and stop, brake lights reflected red in the puddles. Soon, the season will slip; summer bending to autumn’s sway.
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The mating ritual of the 3d printer Reading time: about 20 minutes Bailey woke, her heart strobing in her chest. There were muffled sounds from the door opposite her. A muted wail came in through the open window. It sounded like a baby crying, but Bailey knew it couldn’t be. She hadn’t heard that
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Journeys 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,
raleigh 500 I saw him in the Aldi checkout queue adjacent to mine. He must have been in his late eighties, very large framed, in a childlike striped tee-shirt, a large man all hunched over. There was a sallowness about his eyes. Onto the conveyor he placed a twelve-pack of green 500 ml bottles of
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