Picks of the Month
September
relapse prevention therapy
When I was five I was raped. He said it was a game. It wouldn’t hurt. These are clichés. I sometimes tell my students that fiction often isn’t...
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- 35 comments
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- 3229 reads
Soul Boy
I am fifteen years old, a wedge haircut before Brideshead, a forever flicked fringe, soul blue eyes. It’s 1979, my last summer has gone. I am the...
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- 11 comments
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- 1675 reads
August
Submerged
The telly is not working so I forced myself to write a poem.
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- 26 comments
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- 2382 reads
July
Tail-end
Tail-end tale in a passing storm
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- 35 comments
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- 4391 reads
June
Daddio and Beyond
DADDIO When I was a pre-school child I played with miniature plastic cowboys and Indians. My parents referred to them as “characters”. I liked ‘em...
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- 8 comments
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- 1402 reads
May
The Green and White Dress
“Make me a dress for the upcoming gala.” This is Lady Mirithmae. She comes sweeping into my shop, with her gossamer train swishing behind her, her...
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- 10 comments
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- 1283 reads
My Neighbour the Alcoholic
My neighbour, the alcoholic Knows everything but remembers little She eats good food, pickles it herself She won’t let anyone see inside Privacy...
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- 7 comments
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- 1106 reads
April
The List
My mother died as she lived. In Marks and Spencer's Food Hall.
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- 29 comments
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- 3176 reads
March
My Mother And I Agree On Something
I lost my Mum last month. She was a funny and wise woman, and I wrote this last year after a conversation during which, for once, we really did agree on something.
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- 18 comments
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- 1643 reads
Grimms49
Tony shares a room at the top of the stairs with Bruno. ‘He’s a bed-wetter,’ whispers Julie. ‘We may get him up during the night to take him to the...
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- 16 comments
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- 1413 reads