by Rebecca Clark || There is a woman sat next to me, in the middle seat.
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 Laura McDonagh || narcissus cannot see herself
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.
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