Alison Jones

    Oracles Each year I am looking for signs, a white pebble, a dropped feather, shy shadow’s shape, red thread burning, how the beans fall in bright patterns, a walnut’s voyage in a silver bowl, sailing a birthday candle through night waters. I must hold...

Nigel King

    KILNER BANK Convolvulus strangles cow parsley and nightshade. Its pure white trumpets plead: Forgive us! Look how lovely we are! Behind the birch trees the hum of industry is punctured by the staccato clack of squabbling magpies. Off the track there’s an...

Eve Chancellor

    Payday Mid-afternoon and the streets smell of petrichor; people spilling out of pubs, crowding to smoke cigs in the early spring sunshine. I am alone, again. All my friends live thousands of miles away. I am closer to the people who are not near me...

Fiona Heatlie

  Planet Nine You talk to me intently of black holes. I slip my hand into yours, unnoticed. You are absorbed in thoughts astronomical. I am stealing time. Swallowed by a constellation of brighter stars and suddenly you are on the cusp of the cusp of a place where...