by Melissa Maney || Ivy awoke to the sound of midnight footsteps outside her window. Usually, she’d dismiss it as a deer or a fox, and would go back to sleep. But something about these noises sounded different. She got up and peeked out the window. There was a person in the backyard walking right towards her.
by Jennifer Coffeen || Sharon was stirring kirsch brandy into her whipping cream when she first heard the hiss.
by Chloe Weare || There is glitter in the bathtub.
by Sheila Kinsella || On a rainy Sunday afternoon in October, I pour myself another glass of red wine. Whiskey miaows and shifts on my lap, settling down as I sit back, glass in hand. The quizmaster on the TV prattles on in the background, a backdrop to my thoughts. Cocktail hour arrives earlier by the day.
by Anna Maconochie | One cold evening, a woman was stopped on the street by a fortune teller.
by Isabelle Marie Flynn || The first thing I learn is that she wears handmade clothes. The second is that she’s a fucking Capricorn. You spit the words at me between a swig of beer and a mouthful of garlic bread, shaking your head across the chequered tablecloth.
by Annabel Banks || I was fifteen when he first turned up, some flashy guy in a leather coat with starlight in his eyes.
by Gráinne O’Hare || Blanche and Orla don’t notice Laoise crying at first; they are engaged in lively debate about how much vodka a tampon can hold.
by Fionna Cumming || March hits like a fist, these Ides the first we've truly had to be wary of since Caesar bled, and we didn't heed the warnings.
by Sian Norris || "It just doesn't look right," Iris said, wringing her hands. Meghan couldn't take her eyes off those hands. She didn't think she'd ever seen anyone actually wring their hands before.