by Holly Aszkenasy || The spring my marriage came apart it seemed the world had recast itself in exaggeratedly biblical relief.
by Gerry Stewart || Five hares tracing circles
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.
Reviewed by Beth O'Rafferty || Perhaps the most striking thing about Doireann Ní Ghríofa’s A Ghost in the Throat, apart from how uncategorisable it is, is just how effortless it seems.
by Elizabeth Gibson || My first time properly clubbing
by Jennifer Coffeen || Sharon was stirring kirsch brandy into her whipping cream when she first heard the hiss.
by Danae Younge || It's been years since we learned origami
by Alex Wardrop || A bright red quilt, red riding
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.