Amanda Quinn lives in the North East of England where she works as a freelance writer and tutor. Her writing has been published by Shooter…
Tá sí ina luí san áit ar thit sí. Bruach fuar an locha, uisce ar chomhdhath leis an sclát-spéir thairsti. Tchíonn sí scáileanna – scamaill…
A Dhónaill, ná bíodh scaoll ort. Cad é? Cé sin? Suaimhnigh tú féin a Dhónaill, fan socair bomaite agus míneoidh mé cé mé. Cá’l tú?…
Bhí céad dealramh na gréine ag lonrú síos ar fionnadh órga an ghiorria, ‘s é ag léimt go oscartha trín báinseach bhreá fhéir i reilg…
Ba dhóigh le Labhrás gur ar foluain i nga solais a bhí sé. Ansin theagmhaigh a chosa le dromchla crua. Thit sé ar a cheithre…
The other side of the mountain, everything had changed. A digger had ploughed a road through the choked rubble. Fridge-freezers, cars, whole trees, the entire…
The night my neighbour burned down his house, I too set fire to my bedroom floor. Or rather just a small portion of the carpet,…
i.m. Doug Telfer, died 26 June 1943, aged 19 years Zum-zum! The air shatters to shrapnel, white-hot, the compass spirals, the charts flake, and he…
Out of Graceland, shown the door, that time you sucker-punched a nun, a Carmelite. Just after you had paid a visit to the King’s own…