Stranger This is the cry that hollows the walls, that shrinks like evening Primrose clicking on window frames, rapping out the ticks of post-nocturnal gloom, the accepted hour of life. It is...

  The Monster in the Mirror When I look at myself cold in the morning the monster’s sister looks right back. These hazel eyes I got them from my father. I have been stitched together from the...

      The Mechanical Turk A neat contrivance of rods and cams creates the illusion a hustler seeks. His window dressing perfects the hoax: the turban and robes a thespian’s flourish....

      Light Bearer I’ll leave Fear by the door, you say as you step in. You’re bone-weary, broken, borne down by the weight you bring. Shadows shrink from you. Is it time?   I ask,...

  The proof of being able to cook It’s happening again. I can feel fat settling around my hips, adipose in my bones my scars stretching. I don’t want it to set up home. It’s as welcome as a...

      Snipe Her wet eyes were green as fenland water. The twelfth day of August and she could hide alongside you in her crypsis of hair until it seemed that you might step on her -...

    Rare Humiliated behind glass black, point nosed Beluga Sturgeon, float on a terrace. After the seminar astronomers eat salad, watch stars flick on. I too am interested in the Universe...

  Greece Until now, I hadn’t noticed your way: turning your back as you cut bread, a half-turn, so you would still see my face.       Zoe Broome is a writer who has been...

      On Jaffa Street The orange spins from the doorway startles the bright pitted sphere bounces on smooth dark stone the puddle jumps orange turns in on itself rolls tracing a...