by Andrzej Ryan
Here in Brompton Cemetery, there are signs which forbid off-path wandering. Brompton is neat and tidy and intends to stay that way. But a waterproof-wearing rebel is creeping amongst the stones; bearded and bespectacled, he is carefully taking rubbings from the headstones. There are dog-walkers, cyclists and a pair of old men having a row. Two young women walk purposefully down a side path. [read more…]
by Alex Farebrother-Naylor
Things You Can Buy At The Famers’ Market
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by Cassandra Solon-Parry
He had a bushy, greying moustache and was dressed in black, with a short jacket that resembled a cape, and a bowler hat. But the thing that had made Rachel, and everyone else, stop what they were doing was the extraordinary musical instrument he carried. It appeared to have been tacked together from pieces of violin and at least two trumpets, the horns of which were ranged one on top of the other above the bridge and strings of the violin. [read more…]
The re-appearance of anonymous photos on the web has prompted more strenuous denials from Battersea Dogs’ Home that cutbacks in the heating budget last January caused severe distress amongst some of the more short-haired residents. [read more…]
by Alice Slater
In the bathroom, I jab more kohl around my eyes, panda my sockets with black glittery powder. The sinks are filled with crumpled plastic cups, sodden tissues, vomit, cigarette stubs, ash. A girl with pink nostrils and armfuls of rubber shag bands asks if she can borrow my eyeliner. I hand it to her and watch her transform her small bloodshot eyes into artwork, thickly lined like Cleopatra. [read more…]
by Alice Bower
I didn’t know you could access the underworld from the school. It’s just not something they told me when I applied for the job. “Nice school, challenging area, good pay” – that’s what they told me. They never once used the words “passage to hell under the large apparatus in the school hall”. But then I guess that might put a lot of people off, mightn’t it? [read more…]
by Alex Farebrother-Naylor
Modern Pub
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by Alexandra Lister
… through plumes
of cigarette smoke, the boy with the
anchor tattoo got drunk for the first time
and we looked up to see the early swallows come
in over London like tiny bombers…
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by Cassandra Solon-Parry
The man who gets on the bus after me is wearing the same outfit I am: charcoal denims, black leather jacket, white pumps. We acknowledge this then look away. Later, when the person sat between us leaves, we glance up and find ourselves looking at each other again. I’m reading a music magazine. He’s listening to music through a shiny red iPod. I make a point of not smiling and then I look out the window. [read more…]
by Adam E. Smith
The day doesn’t really start till 6, so I usually get up at 5 to have a look around before anyone else is about. That hour is my time, when the world belongs to me because no one else is up. Except Geoff. Geoff works at the dock. I know he’s called Geoff because it says so on the door of his shack. During the day, Geoff paces alongside the dock like a linesman, talking to the people on their swanky yachts. [read more…]