Mr Wegmann by Simon Pinkerton

When I was 16 I asked out the most gorgeous girl in the superstore. She was behind the deli counter in a little paper-boat hat, blonde plaited hair twirling out…

Cold, Black, and Bitter by Lee Hamblin

Saturday morning, and I’m taking my breakfast at the same diner I always have. Time was when Boots, Ed and me would trawl in here regular, early morning red-eyed from…

Summer Song by Max Dunbar

There was a tune in my head, every moment when I think of that time, Summer Song by Ronnie Foster, imagine the sound is coming out of the centre of…

Expedition by Stephanie Carty

My sharpness is smoothed out at the edges. White fog has seeped through the tent lining, swirled around the fleece of my hood, into my grey matter. As my tent…

Global Warming by Nicholas Cook

January We wore shorts and believed the world was dying. You showed me the tooth you lost in a fight. “I can stick it back in,” you said. Your sweaty…

The Aesthete by Philip Berry

Soomaya drew a translucent finger across the micro-fine sheet of slate. The lines and figures on the page sprang up in rolling formation, magnified by her vitreous flesh. She absorbed…

Swings by Kate Jones

The little girl on the swing looks sad.  Her mother is speaking into a ‘phone, its blue glow lighting up her drawn-in eyebrows and cheap mascara.  She’s gesturing wildly with…