T/W - Mild references to abusive relationship & sexual harrassment Nat heard a loud, meaty engine pulling up out the front of the unit. Her arms dropped the work folder and clutched across her chest, her trembling hands sweating through the polo top. They’ll be coming through the gate any moment now. She took backward steps through the dusty backyard, stumbling into the Hills Hoist. Bracing against it, her eyes darted around the yard enclosed by brushwood fencing. Could I jum

Renewal For some standing on the brink of abyss, swirling oceans below and angry skies jetted with lightning above, acceptance comes before the plunge. Tear-soaked cheeks with hands fitted in clutching knobs, but acceptance comes. For some it takes stepping off the edge and plummeting to violent waves and sharp rocks below, a minnow in a pool of thrashing sharks. You’ll resurface dragging yourself bruised and bleeding from the maelstrom still alive, but wondering why. Renewal

In the covered city centre market, it is a morning like every other, for most. The air is infused with the aromas of coffee and baked breads, and customers’ chatter and traders’ cries blend to create a vibrant soundscape. In the midst of it all, a woman stands frozen. Streams of shoppers flow around her, swerving the obstruction she has become. She is small, and in herself, does not require much negotiation. However, the tall, gangly youth standing next to he

Louise always thought that fainting would be a blank experience. But now as she faints she thinks of how she should have eaten breakfast. She worries that her mask is slipping. She imagines her sister laughing when she tells her this story, as she did when she joked that Louise should fake a swoon to grab the attention of any good-looking nurses at the vaccination centre. When Louise comes round her head is sandwiched between her knees. A hand rubs her back in concentric circ

AUDIO VERSION! https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/88750d_399bb69d45d3461b885a97b4c032a0c1.mp3 Copyright (c) JP Seabright 2022 JP Seabright is a queer writer living in London, who has had poetry published in three anthologies, short stories published online and in print, and various pieces shortlisted, longlisted and highly commended. They are Assistant Editor for Full House Lit Mag, and can be found hanging out on Twitter @errormessage Links you need to explore! Fragments from

Nikki is managing editor of streetcake magazine and also runs the streetcake writing prize and MumWrite. She has a chapbook and collection with KFS. Her pamphlet 'I'd better let you go' and collection 'Fanny B. Mine' are out with Beir Bua Press. She is the winner of the Virginia Prize 2020 and her second novel, Volta was published in May 2021. Her website is: nikkidudleywriter.com Twitter: @nikkidudley20

Evening Return I want to come back whole I want to eat a hearty stew In the night With my butter and bun And abide only by the bare Bones of my needful Hunger: the wolf in the badger, Seeking warmth singularly, Ravenous for the mercy Of home, in from the driving sleet Of the wild old strife. What the winter wants is me how_to_be_vulnerable_on_the_internet congratulations to the funniest inventions on the planet, who can laugh all day/all night but who cannot cry high praise t

Ruby-Throated This poet loves not just other poets but also hummingbirds. This poet sews the clouds into the sky and keeps pointing at the moon. This poet doesn’t hum, but whirrs and feels it misnamed by a man. This poet is equal or lesser to other hummingbirds. This poet wonders if humming is enough. This poet wears a monocle and top hat on Sunday. This poet hides in the hedge during windstorms. This poet waits for more sugar water to be poured. This poet puts its face in ev

Nobody knows when the passages first appeared, that nest of narrow lanes zigzagging across town like shadows of the streets we knew so well. Some said it was the recent influx of people from the city that had birthed them, as if our town had reacted to these new residents by growing extra limbs. Those that had lived here for years claimed the passages had always been there, and it was easy to defer to our elders and their cosy wisdom. But as events unfolded this became an imp

Waves like white peaks of Mt. Everest, rugged, rough. Inconceivable valleys, deep dark and dreamy. Into that abyss, her heart urged a dip. The sea would buoy her up, she knew. Such a dive she wished her special child take. An end, if at all, worth a claim, worthy of forgiveness. Does that make her a bad mother? Donna Abraham Tijo is the author of ‘Or Forever Hold Your Peace’ (AuthorsUpfront, 2014). Her short stories have been published in The Best Asian Short Stories 2021 (Ki