By Martin Smith. There was once a woman unlucky in love. For years she searched for the perfect man, a Prince Charming with whom to share her life. She tried online dates, coffee dates, wine bar dates, dinner dates, impromptu … Continued
Dabola, Guinea, West Africa, by Kris Fricke THE IMPORTANCE OF A ROOSTER JULIE RYSDALE HISTOIRE GEOFFREY GASKILL The day was sultry, and the last class of the day was lethargic. ‘Did you know,’ Mr Peck, their … Continued
Station, by Julie Rysdale A MORNING AT THE STATION JULIE RYSDALE The train’s warm rush of gritty wind scatters disposed coffee cups, discarded wrappers and greasy paper bags which have cocooned morning croissants and pains au chocolat. The memory … Continued
things aren’t what they seem, by Jo Curtain KEEPIN’ IT REAL JULIE RYSDALE So there it is again, fools. You disjointed souls mocking us mules. Taking us for a ride now. You are drawing us out? how? No … Continued
Timber, by Anne Franks EYE IN THE TREE MICHAEL CAINS Rustling leaves following my walk through the forest. Covering the tracks where I slowly pass by, The scent of trees lingers closely around me. Air sweeter and heavier, but … Continued
Untitled 1, by John Bartlett BING! THE SOUND OF SOMETHING NEW JO CURTAIN Verity is sitting in wait for you glad to be one of the girls 18–30-something low to middle-income glitter -varnished fingernails Bing! the sound of something new … Continued
Small Town Secrets, by Jo Curtain NEVER DISPLEASE AN ANGRY MOON JULIE RYSDALE Stercesn-Wotllams, a pleasant village that clung to the edge of a deep emerald loch and receded to the foothills beneath an imposing escarpment. The surrounds of … Continued
Yuletide, by Jenny Funston MIRROR GEOFFREY GASKILL ‘Mirrors never lie.’ His mother said that. That was another time, and she was long dead. She was a self-confessed difficult woman but even she had her mellow moments when she didn’t … Continued
Prayer, by Jan Price FADED BELIEF MICHAEL CAINS HEAVENLY FACES JO CURTAIN YES, VIRGINIA, THERE IS … Continued
Footsteps, by Tom Adair STRANGE JAN PRICE Strange footprints in the sand — not a seagull’s scrawny three-pronged arrows that point in the direction opposite to intended destination. Perhaps a tide-out early morning runner for the sand is … Continued