Between Stations by Anna Spence
Maya sits like a fruit packed for shipping between a Man With an Unfortunate Goatee and a Youth Who Doesn’t Like You And What You Stand For. The 7:35 and…
Maya sits like a fruit packed for shipping between a Man With an Unfortunate Goatee and a Youth Who Doesn’t Like You And What You Stand For. The 7:35 and…
The lighthouse keeper has been spying on us because he has nothing better to do. He balances on rocks wet as seal backs, his trousers lined from knee to ankle,…
‘It’s very simple,’ he says gently. ‘Imagine I lend you ten pounds. I create an account for you here.’ He draws a column and writes her name over it, how…
The pool is a wet kimono. As I dive in, its shiveringly intoxicating liquid touch folds around my body. One length and I’m warm. Two lengths, the water fits me…
It must have caught her just right, that forking bolt that found Vanessa jogging in a sun shower. She’d been darkly aware of something following, not unlike the occasional male…
‘Premium bonds!’ she said to her husband as he quietly prepared the sprouts, his head bowed. ‘They know he doesn’t have any other close relatives, but all the same, your…
On the morning of Billi’s funeral, I woke very early. I still didn’t know if I should go, I barely knew her. But mum said it was a local tragedy…
Will Tesco still deliver? She thinks this while her fingers sting through the freezer on a numb hunt for anything to make a passable meal. She pulls out half bags…
There’s video of the then-Prime Minister, over 75 years ago, staring down the TV camera and addressing the nation. ‘I have an announcement,’ she’d said, teeth glistening at the corners…
At the dinner table, his mother’s flesh spreads like warm, pale jelly over her chair. His father sits at the head of the table; he is simmering and sour. Tom…
His eyes flicker in the screenlight as if they’re following an autocue on turbo. Every frame saturates his pupils faster than a nuclear iceblink. I lift the top plate off…
It doesn’t begin like you thought it might, back when you dreamed on ballet-pink sheets under a patchwork of airbrushed pop stars. Back then, you would have thought it began…