le Sernin Seal Is minic a chuireann sí an cheist uirthi féin: Ar dhein sí an cinneadh ceart nuair a d’imigh sí? Tá an cheist…
le Seán Ó Dubhda B’fhíor don réalteolaí raidió ar ball. Tá seó ar siúl os ár gcionn an oíche anocht i gceartlár an tsamhraidh. Réaltaí…
le Catherine O’Brien Mise d’abhcóide nuair a thránn do mhisneach agus ciorclaíonn na deamhain a ghintear as do mhíáthas. Ní stadainn ar ór nó ar…
le Ciarán Ó Dornáin Bhí mé ag fanacht sa charr. Bhí rud ar an nuacht faoi Bhóthar Garbh Achaidh. Ní raibh muid i bhfád ón…
by Claire Connolly We step out of the sea and straight into our socks; fuck the sand, it’s cold. Turn on the engine, start the…
by Bríd McGinley No time to get a basket, I bundle the dirty laundry in one of Peter’s shirts – his favourite white cotton oxford…
by JP Relph A roiling marmalade sun burned as we danced in the strange snow. The rail-track verge like a packed platform, dense with brambles…
by Elodie Barnes Her body was a jellyfish that had lost its sting. Cold. Curiously pliant, her skin yielding to doctors, nurses, powders, pills. Floating…
by Joanne Hayden Hiding in the dunes, the father watched, field-glasses pressed to his eyes. His son was crouching by a rockpool, staring down. He…
by Clodagh O’Brien ‘What did you do now?’ the mother asks. ‘Nothing, I did nothing’, her son says, palms as bowls. ‘That’s not true,’ the…