The Arrival Of The Birds At Blakeney by Mark Left
The doctor’s voice. They are talking about him again. His eyes are closed and he sees a vast space of light and darkness. Her words bounce around his head to fill the…
The doctor’s voice. They are talking about him again. His eyes are closed and he sees a vast space of light and darkness. Her words bounce around his head to fill the…
You listen to the sound of gulls swooping overhead and push back against your toes, the garden chair tipping, threatening to throw you over. You hate Bon Jovi, choosing instead to listen…
The dead line up for the soup, and we have run out of china bowls. Mummy hisses: I am too slow and Helga is blowing bubbles. The icy water doesn’t cut through…
Lauren stared at him rather amused. A scarf wrapped tightly around her neck. My Angel Chapter 1 Green, are the fields of Heaven. Soft, with lush, long grass. Glistening, with the morning…
The first time he wore a tie was at his mother’s funeral. His father gripped him by the shoulders and circled the thin black cord around his throat without making eye contact.…
I went to sleep to the sad sigh of the last train and woke up to the breadscent from the bakery below. Already things require clarification: sleep took place in my lover’s…
eVe’s card was wrapped in a clean rag. She’d unravelled it that morning and placed it in her dress pocket. The walk was long, but she’d brought two powders to ensure she…
P – A – T – R – O – N – I – S – E The letters light up like bulbs as she reads it. There has been this feeling,…
There’s something about the shower curtain that makes you pause before pulling it back, as if all the perverts of your imagination pop out of the shadows just to watch you shave…
When he arrives today he stares at the bed for a long time. I think it is because I have started actually making it in the morning, tucking the sheets in properly…
It started out as an essay. Only you don’t do essays, my therapist says. I thought he’d appreciate my emerging rational side, yet he doesn’t. So I should fictionalize it, I tell…
The baby latched on like he was starving. He’d fed an hour before. And an hour before that. I nursed a water bottle while the baby nursed me, and we both listened…