Octopus by Magali Roman
Fiction | In Paris, every advertisement is a painting. The city is wallpapered with them: vibrant, colorful posters that grow like moss on every surface. […]
Tag: creative writing
Hope Is For The Unprepared (Or Me) by Rémy Ngamije
Fiction | “Love has no exit interviews,” I say. “Closure is the poor man’s time travelling.” My voice is cold over the phone. I tell myself the situation calls for it; I’m speaking to my ex-girlfriend, after all. […]
Ten Years in the Making by Sonali Misra
Nonfiction | Sonali describes her experience with polycystic ovary syndrome as an Indian woman in this personal essay. […]
Glendalough by Anna Loughran
Chrissy stopped in her tracks and turned to Helen in excitement. “Look, Mum,” she said. “Look at the sparkle in the water. It’s gold, I swear. I’m going to be rolling in it, just you wait!” […]
The Strange Case of Renfeld by Oliver Cook
Over in the eastern sky, the large yellow disk of the sun was making an appearance. A gleam of light shone through the narrow gap of the olive-coloured curtains at No. 47, a modest house in typical suburban Surrey, a place where the same events occur each day and change is unwelcome. […]
The Journey by Natalie Nera
Smoke obscured the view for a moment as Oksana searched for a sign. She squinted but there was no platform, only the wide blurred plain, covered in mist. This was nobody’s stop. […]
The Drive to Corinna by Annette Freeman
I was supposed to be at Corinna by now; they were expecting me at the pub, but the journey had taken longer than I thought. […]
The World’s Most Photographed Woman by Katy Lennon
Growing up, I saw Princess Diana a lot. In newspapers, on TV, smiling from photo frames. Suspended, headless, in the centre of porcelain plates on plastic stands never intended for use. […]
Tess and Friends Try On Selves Like Swimsuits by Dia Roth
We try on bodies—like them, long / for them—then try others. Somewhere / between hunger and earnest thirst, / we shapeshift. […]
Once Bitten Twice Shy by Dan A. Cardoza
The Headmaster scolded him for burning and biting his skin, and all he could do was apologize to his stepmother. […]
