by Helen Ivory | Jul 3, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Actor’s Cut Please leave me to my drunken rants and insensitive comments, nowadays I prefer to take a different route to the shops, there are parts of the library where no book lover ever goes. Now I find myself subject to revision repackaged with...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 30, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Sea Mist or, as Scots call it, haar. It rolls in stealthily, steadily drawing nearer with every wave that washes the sand. Then, it rocks me, ragging me like a cold, damp shawl hurled around my shoulders. Between my toes the...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 29, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
What is it like to be a herring gull? (After Thomas Nagel) Circling the heavy church at the end of the street, you see a cliff-stack far out in a grey Atlantic, an inherited seascape sloshing inside your skull, salting...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 28, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Luxembourg, 1942 If he could tell you he would say that it feels nothing like falling asleep there is no well lit cinemascope flashback of your life he would say that he remembered, not everything not even necessarily the good...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 27, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Lost Time In the future, you’ll say; “We recorded passing periods with nanoseconds and centuries and how it wasn’t fazed by war, desperation or the 1970’s. We relied on it and one day it quit, gave up and left without a trace,...
