They lived off this headline for years. Never married. Gave talks in primary schools. Children asked the same questions. What bit of the house did…
I regret to inform you that my heart has been accepted elsewhere; I must therefore withdraw my submission. I truly admire your publication. I won’t…
Let me lay my head down for a moment, just a second’s rest. The sunlight on my face is so heavy, my hot thoughts lead.…
Sometimes I come for the ghosts of arguments. The stone-chip in a windscreen, The tell-tale tyre track rubber. Counterfeit diamonds of brake light glass. Sideswiped…
Spring sunlight lands on them precisely, like the light and shade of those Impressionist paintings you loved. And I came to love them. Here the…
Team Splonk is nominating two stories from Issue 8 for Pushcart prizes: In This Tale of a Suburban Tiger, the Part of the Mother is…
Caroline hadn’t seen the cat for days. Jim said he didn’t want to hear any more about it, even though she’d only mentioned it the…
Bhí Sadhbh trom ar pháiste nuair a d’fhág Fionn le dul ag sealgaireacht. Bolg mór lán uirthi. An t-am ag druidim léi. Sheas sí, lámh…
I plant a graveyard of feathers on my tongue. Watch them sprout into birds without wings. I could pluck up these flightless fowl, snuff out…
Mist rises from the sodden earth and I wonder from what creatures it rises, think of the bodies that lie submerged within its belly, the…