Wearing white is like carving a bullseye on our bodies, inviting men to spray us just so they can peek at our nipples or the floral etches of our bras, which means the first rule is never to wear white, light pink, or the soft yellow of newborn chicks. While it’s better to steal one …
The reading room is state of the art, climate-controlled to keep the rare books, manuscripts and prints in their best condition. Outside, it’s too hot for even a light jacket. In here, I wear a sweater, pull my shawl tighter around my shoulders. Precious things, fragile things. There are foam rests to put the books …
Stretcher-bearers stumble in the gloom of open country, not fully knowing what lies beneath upon the watery earth. The women and men striving to save half-lost lives know it will not be enough, just as endless weeks past. In the low morning light, another ambulance departs for the field hospital. Beyond, dozens of men lie …
Every night, my little boy repeats the same things before we leave his room. ‘Cuddle and kiss before you go to bed.’ He tugs my arm towards him, neither of us ready to let go. I kiss his forehead, searching for the scent of his skin, the post-bath softness of him, still unblemished but for …
I am watching my ex-girlfriend’s new husband do stand up comedy and honestly it’s not bad. It’s not bad for a video on the internet, I mean. I found it a week ago but I saved it for right now, for when my current girlfriend is sleeping upstairs because I have played out the scenario …
It’s 2006 in the fictional East London borough of Leytonstow. The UK’s pub smoking ban is about to happen, and thirty-eight-and-a-half year old John Torrington, a mopper and trolley collector at his local DIY store, is secretly in love with the stylish, beautiful, and middle-class barmaid Lois. John and his hapless, strange, and down-on-their-luck friends, …
The alligator clock snapped on the hour and if you put your finger in his mouth, he drew blood which mother said was good luck, when she told May to sit on the bed and press with her thumb and raise her hand to God, and sent Danny out for ice, what she jokingly called …
Horace is twisting again, under my skin. I cup my hand on my pelvis under the candy-striped sheet in the saggy double bed in my parents’ best spare room. My nearly-new husband’s hand joins mine. “Anything to report?” Only the ache. It is hard to recall yesterday’s ache in enough detail to compare it to …
Being gracefully checkmated wasn’t my father’s forte, just as consistency, wasn’t mine. I watched my parents play chess every day with a tad of scepticism, wondering if they really enjoyed playing the same game. My mother could win hands down. My father lost every time. He scowled and pressed his lips. He was a bad loser. …
The examination table was uncomfortable but Hannah didn’t care. In fact, she half hoped the doctor would be called away, not for an emergency – she wouldn’t wish a life-changing event on anyone – but to deal with a minor mishap. While he played hero, she’d be more than happy to nap. But there was …
Prelude He watches as she discreetly tips whiskey from her flask into a pint glass full of Coke. She sees him looking and blushes. Raises a violent red fingernail, nibbled at the tip, to her lips. He nods. Feels his heart rise up to claw at his throat. Let me out, it says. For Christ’s …
Six Ways to Start Something, and Five to End it by Rachel O’Cleary Read More »
Step right up and invent an enemy. Tell him about it. Tell him how you feel now, like marshmallow wrapped in bacon. Tell him about the sea, your flooded home, the jetty with two sail boats that honeymooners hire to go out and anchor in the middle of the waters. Tell him about the markets …
The Lyrics of a Thunderstorm by Mandira Pattnaik Read More »