‘I squeeze an orange to your mouth. You used to boil them to remove the bitterness from their skin. On a dare, you drank the liquid they left behind, all pith, just to impress me.’
New fiction by Navid Sinaki.
Fiction | hardened skin by Serena Coady
‘They were lying in his bed, intertwined, when Sylvi ran her fingers along his chest tattoos, and asked how many he had. In return, he asked for her number. But Sylvi didn’t have any tattoos.’
New fiction by Serena Coady.
Fiction | The Man Who Had a Tail by Anna Maconochie
Anna Maconochie The Man Who Had a Tail Whenever I’m at one of my husband’s work do’s, which I…
Fiction | Sanderson’s Isle by James Clarke [Extract]
James Clarke Sanderson’s Isle . From Sanderson’s Isle by James Clarke published by Serpent’s Tail, out 13th of July 2023. Set in the…
Fiction | Gleanings by Jack Sheehan
Jack Sheehan Gleanings When the weather is dry I sometimes sleep with the chickens. People will tell you they’re…
Fiction | Paris est magique by Wendy Erskine
Wendy Erskine Paris est magique Bus is rammed, always full on the wet days with the blazers stinking of dogs’…
Fiction | The Crying Suite by David Hering
David Hering The Crying Suite Lachrynoma: cancer of the tears. I was sent down to a stone building behind the…
Fiction | Asphyxia by Violette Leduc
My mother never gave me her hand… She always helped me on and off pavements by pinching my frock or coat very lightly at the spot where the armhole provides a grip. It humiliated me. I felt I was inside the body of an old horse with my carter dragging me along by one ear… One afternoon, as a gleaming carriage sped past, splattering the leaden summer with its reflections, I pushed the hand away right in the middle of the road. She pinched the cloth […]
Fiction | We Can Be Friends by Lauren Sarazen
There was a cluster of coats and hats careening over the railing, and when I got closer I could see what they were looking at. The basin, which had been full of water the last time I’d passed, was drained to the dregs and men in coveralls and tall rubber boots were crawling around in the sludge […]
Archive | Breakfast with Borges by Andrew Graham-Yooll
First published in The London Magazine March 1983, Vol.22, No.12 Jorge Luis Borges entered the Pedmonte Restaurant on Avenida de Mayo with…
Archive | Fiction | Silvio by Arturo Vivante
First published in the June 1970 edition of The London Magazine (Vol. 10, No. 3) Like a statue too…
Fiction | On His Own Ground by Vis Nathan
First published in the December 1976/January 1977 of The London Magazine (Volume 16, No.5) Gopal entered his cubby-hole surrounded…
A Walk Through Rackham Land by Steven O’Brien
Ideally, if you go into Rackham Land you should go on your own. Take a deep breath and walk. Don’t…
The Leprechaun by Steven O’Brien
And so it all began with my grandad and the Leprechaun. He was a great man for singing and stories. His…
Night Train to Athens
He was nineteen and she was twenty and they’d ‘met’ ten minutes earlier, seated opposite each other on the Patras-Athens…
The Pity of It
Dad boasted he’d ‘read all of Shakespeare’s plays’. He asked Mum if she’d read any of Shakespeare’s plays, but she…
An Ode to Spectacles (Three Inches Thick)
She arrived right on time, smoking a cigarette round the corner, checking her watch between drags before popping in…
The Ideal Husband Exhibition
The thing is, we’ve been friends since our first day at primary and you sat down at my elbow…
I Have Called You By Your Name
I. Hvalfjörður I’d promised Sam whales, a substitute for his Mum who was off on holiday with her new…
Pigeon Feathers by Soumya Bhattacharya
At the time the boy had no idea that this was the last thing they were doing as a…
Leaving Cuba
I am woken by Suci, the village postman, knocking at our door. ‘Pavel,’ he calls, coming round to tap the…
The Match Factory
Are you troubled by SPIRITS? Call FRANÇOIS, GIFTED MEDIUM, on 07812 678321. The advert was in the back of…
Murkund and the Upholding of a Bureaucratic Machine
Mukund breathed a sigh of relief as he left the immigration office in Dembe, capital of Babanya Letu. He…
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