by Elodie Barnes || I am not supposed to be here.
The Good Neighbours is an enquiry into the unknowability of the past and our attempts to make events fit our need to interpret them; the fallibility of recollection; the power of myths in shaping human narratives. Nina Allan skilfully weaves the imagined and the real to create a magically haunting story of memory, obsession and the liminal spaces that our minds frequent to escape trauma.
by John Grey || I've visited the jungle many times
by Laura McDonagh || I have been ebaying my dead mother's clothes
by Madeleine Tomasoa || "What do you think of the sea?" Charles says, suddenly.
by Cory Roberson || Eve materialized, all raven hair and glowing lips, from the rib of a man
by Angèle Eliane || Sat at the table
by Susan Hatters Friedman || The twins are finally asleep
by Annabel Hynes || I tell her he’s beautiful even though all babies look more or less the same, round-cheeked and pink and squinty.
by Holly Day || The jellyfish flutter just below the surface of the water