Fiction | Discipline by Ed Luker
Forgetting a coin for the locker, never bringing his goggles, leaving his shampoo in the showers, Harvey found comfort in the small mishaps of his swim routine. It was their lack of consequence—how these mistakes would not really make anything that much worse. He stroked the puffy scar just above his knee. Three times a week he went to the pool, without fail. Thirty minutes in, the chlorine stung his eyes. Only Harvey could put his life back together—that’s what Craig drilled into him.Â
Poetry | Two Poems by Wendy Allen
Interview | Desperate Literature Judge Mariana EnrÃquez on the Short Story, Violence & the Decline of Autofiction
‘I think in short stories it’s a lot easier to hear the voice of the writer. The novel meanders. In the short story you are a bit more naked.’
Mariana EnrÃquez on short stories.
Review | Toy Fights: A Boyhood by Don Paterson
Fiction | Lori’s Walking Upstairs Carrying Two Mugs of Coffee by Amy Arnold [Extract]
Review | Irregular Pieces of Concrete by Hugh Foley
Essay | Manet, Mandarins and Me by Chloë Ashby
Fiction | shee-shee-shee by Kerry Hood
‘I know about things left too long to boil, things too hot to ever touch. I know there’s a kind of human who can take a single moment and make it better just by living it.’
New short fiction by Kerry Hood.
Essay | Literary Riches by Josh Mcloughlin
Essay | Counting the Bodies by Clare Fisher
Poetry | The Length of the World by Niamh Prior
Essay | Heartbreakers by Christiana Spens [Extract]
Fiction | White Elephant by Morgan Turner
Interview | Q&A with Leah Broad author of Quartet
Fiction | The Wettest Town in Ireland by Tom Tierney
Interview | ‘Calendars’ – An Interview With Andreea Iulia Scridon
Poetry | Anthem by Nicholas McGaughey
Essay | Wolf’s Hall by Joanne Paul
Interview | Lisa McInerney talks to Erik Martiny
Poetry | Jessica Traynor | Two Poems
Fiction | A False Memory of Happier Times Filled with Laughter and Music by David Micklem
Fiction | Roses, Falling by Rupert Dastur
‘I cannot believe what I’m seeing, but there is no doubting it: roses are falling from the sky; the sort to fill vases or lay on gravesides: red and white, peach and pink, full-headed, green tear-drop leaves spaced along thorny stem.’
New fiction by Rupert Dastur.
























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