Fiction | The Wettest Town in Ireland by Tom Tierney
Tom Tierney The Wettest Town in Ireland This is the town. A mixture of faded cream and dirty white for…
Interview | ‘Calendars’ – An Interview With Andreea Iulia Scridon
Jamie Cameron ‘Calendars’ – An Interview With Andreea Iulia Scridon Andreea Iulia Scridon is a Romanian-American poet and translator. She is…
Poetry | Anthem by Nicholas McGaughey
Nicholas McGaughey Anthem They stand for Wales in wind and rain, impervious to elements that might conspire to quell them.…
Essay | Wolf’s Hall by Joanne Paul
Joanne Paul Wolf’s Hall In November 1508, a haberdasher named Thomas Sunnyff walked along Candlewick Street in central London. Passers-by…
Interview | Lisa McInerney talks to Erik Martiny
Erik Martiny Lisa McInerney Lisa McInerney is the editor of The Stinging Fly and the author of three novels: The Glorious…
Poetry | Jessica Traynor | Two Poems
Jessica Traynor ‘Three Card Spread’ is taken from Aug/Sep 2022 of The London Magazine. ‘And then the water’ is taken…
Fiction | A False Memory of Happier Times Filled with Laughter and Music by David Micklem
David Micklem A False Memory of Happier Times Filled with Laughter and Music … Claire had been looking forward to…
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.
Review | Melancholy Recognitions: Two French Novels in Translation by Liam Bishop
Liam Bishop Melancholy Recognitions: Two French Novels in Translation Satisfaction | Nina Bouraoui (translated by Aneesa Abbas Higgins) | Canterbury:…
Fiction | I Feel Bad About My Watch by Róisín Lanigan
Róisín Lanigan I Feel Bad About My Watch When I was a teenager — a time which seems simultaneously eons…
Fiction | Stained With Salt Water by Sophie Hampton
Sophie Hampton Stained with Salt Water The North Sea is shaped like a funnel so when a storm breaks from…
Fiction | Succulent by Alex Aspden
Alex Aspden Succulent We’re having a drink at the old man pub on the corner when she asks me if…
Fiction | The Earring by Colm McDermott
Colm McDermott The Earring … Salted almonds. Spicy potato wedges. Green curry wantons. Sitting before your dressing table mirror, drawing…
Fiction | The Toy House by Niamh Cullen
Niamh Cullen The Toy House Two stories. No, three. Four, says Molly, standing on the bed to reach the bookshelves,…
Fiction | Hair by Daniel O’Connor
Daniel O’Connor Hair At hometime, other mummies would talk to his mummy just so they could bathe their fingers in…
Fiction | Rare Bird by Lauren Sarazen
Lauren Sarazen Rare Bird … “You want to know how to breathe fire?” He was talking to a girl too…
Essay | Kingsley and the Women by Malcolm Forbes
Malcolm Forbes Kingsley and the Women Last year marked the centenary of the birth of Kingsley Amis, the finest British…
Fiction | What’s My Name? by Gary Grace
Gary Grace What’s My Name? … I wasn’t long “off the boat” in the States before I’d become a parody…
Adapting Murakami & Animation as Reality – An Interview with Pierre Földes
Pierre Földes Adapting Murakami & Animation as Reality Pierre Földes on his new film ‘Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman’. Blind Willow,…
Fiction | Between Weathers by Katherine Robinson
Katherine Robinson Between Weathers Mara was walking home from the hotel when she heard the alarm. She ran down the…
Essay | Blackgirl on Mars by Lesley-Ann Brown [Extract]
Lesley-Ann Brown Blackgirl on Mars I decided to go to plant school. It’s not a physical school with humans as…
Poetry | Two Poems by Rob A. Mackenzie
Rob A. Mackenzie Two Poems … Oriental Delight The facade may resemble a run-down bookies bolted onto a gun-running estate,…
Fiction | Brad Pitt’s Body in Thelma & Louise by Chris Connolly
Chris Connolly Brad Pitt’s Body in Thelma & Louise She looks at his body. She hasn’t been near a body…
Fiction | In the Dark by Sorcha Hamilton
Sorcha Hamilton In the Dark … He sat in the red armchair all evening, drinking cans and smoking. In his…
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