
Edition 12
Autumn-winter publication. 2020. Continue reading Edition 12
Autumn-winter publication. 2020. Continue reading Edition 12
There’s a bitter taste in my mouth, weighing heavy on my tonguelike my heart against my ribs,like the kind that is swiped from lips after drinking juice,thick in the morning as it swirls in the glass, pulp falling to the bottom, in its sodden state. The taste of juice in the morning,when your mouth is unclean, and your mind is buzzing, all I hear is … Continue reading Juice Pulp
I won’t be found on Broomfield Road, racing through the car park bay.Nor pacing over distant hills,my Darling, I’m a world away. Though onlookers count her present, blind of what’s inside,something in your beady mindbore witness to a change in mine. You see straight through my translucent skin, stretched on its chiselled frame;a window through which tendons, tense,plea to ping ’til the pain’s gone lame. … Continue reading Where does it take you?
Strangest thing, it was, the strangest thing. Wouldn’t have believed it if I’d heard it from somebody else but, ah, there you go, that’s the way things happen, sometimes, innit? I was on clean up. Some old biddy-some posh old biddy, she’d come down with the Cough. Her relatives had all been taken care of, course. I don’t imagine it was too pleasant for them. … Continue reading Carrion
I’m feeling a little hollowKnock, and you’ll hear an echoLean too hard and I’ll crumble Concealed,Afraid to speakAfraid to moveAfraid to uncurl my fingersAnd take up any more space than the one Between my skin and my bonesMy toes and my scalp So, I have emptied myself out Served it on a plateHidden away in the shell Which has become my home. I would like a new … Continue reading Hollow
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
By Yvette Chan Continue reading Bearer of Sorrow
Blue as the tranquil water of the lakes, or of the unseen breeze, or flying kites. Or of ink pens that stain our hands and smear all over the white of the table beneath our weight. Blue as the rising tide, the falling rain, the last crayon in the box that day. Blue as the uniforms we grew up in, and the highlights in … Continue reading Blue
Midnight. When the sky is pitch black and all is dead silent. A time when everyone hides away in their bed, letting sleep protect them. As the moon’s dull light embraced the silent houses and the stars luminous shine promised a brighter tomorrow. No one dared wake from their slumber. No one dared open their eyes. No one dared move from their bed. No one… … Continue reading The Forest