The Intruder

I couldn’t quite make out who it was through the rain-drenched window, but someone was talking to mum. A man, I thought, noting the deep, disparate tone that reverberated through the thin walls of the conservatory. Though I was surprised and, being worn down by the long, monotonous summer, strangely intrigued by this, I remained lying in the leather sofa, hunkered down as if drowning … Continue reading The Intruder

Jellyfish Lake

Palau made Eddy Carvajal feel like a giant. Like the world was not a world at all, but this microcosm of land; just three-hundred-and-forty freckles on a cerulean marble. The archipelago itself held so much oceanic treasure that, for a marine biologist, it made a life-long career. This is why she was seriously considering moving here permanently. The trip that her research group was taking … Continue reading Jellyfish Lake

The Perfect Guest

Jacksie wakes abruptly, eyes snapping open, immediately on the alert. He strains to see in the darkness and stretches carefully. The space is surprisingly large despite all the boxes and – thanks to the trench coat he found upstairs – he’s warm and dry. He’d come across the stone-built cottage while wandering through the woods, searching for somewhere to doss down. Some old biddy had … Continue reading The Perfect Guest

Linda Patterson Awoke

  Editors Note: Kamena is pleased to publish the winning piece of this year’s Transformation programme, a widening participation scheme at the University of Warwick that takes Warwick undergraduates out to schools in Coventry to teach about Literature and Creative writing. This year the winner is Caitlin Hoyle, a year 9 pupil from President Kennedy school in Coventry.   Linda Patterson awoke one sweltering morning, … Continue reading Linda Patterson Awoke

Apple Pie

Mum had a habit of eating the entirety of an apple. The peel, the fruit, the core; all the apple would disappear. The first time I saw her leave an apple core unchallenged, Henry had made a comment, a jibe trying to be a joke that didn’t quite pay off. Henry was always doing that – trying to challenge my mother, to unsettle her. But in his passive aggressive cunning, he didn’t notice the way her eyes glazed over, and how, like hitting restart on a computer, she’d shut down for a short time before putting her face of normality back on and delivering a similarly sharp retort that snapped his neck to the ground with embarrassment. Mum was always doing that – trying to put him in his place, pushing him out of our circle.

Continue reading “Apple Pie”