Jim Murdoch

      In the Event of [        ] Read Poem Most things have their uses, some have value or worth and a rare few acquire some purpose and even meaning. Some things we hold in trust, some we forget we even own and then there’re those items we hang onto...

Andrew McDonnell on Father’s Day

      Somewhere to get to The light is growing in the East the headlights skim the road that runs beside the flooded fields we’re a month off blossom when it comes I will drape myself in the year’s renewal and ask how many times I will see my little...

Luke Reilly on National Flash Fiction Day

      Fag Break A meek and graceful man dressed in a loose-fitting suit paces across the roof of the Four Seasons hotel. He smokes a cigarette and watches the Seoul skyline. He inhales. Beneath his skin, the smoke stains his lungs, thickens the blood....

Anna Lewis

      Coping strategies With the neon-splashed night at the window I counted each contraction down, obediently, as my mother had told me to do. Ninety-eight, ninety-seven… This instruction reminds me of my friend’s advice: if you’re ever in public and...

Bobbie Sparrow

      You ask me why I put myself through that, as if I jumped out of a plane 14,000 feet of fear and longing. As if I were a camel pacing two-toed, unhindered into the eye of the needle. As if I plucked the thorn instead of the rose, wrist of scars no...

Chris Rice

      The Circles on Your Ceiling You wake up (so you tell me) to the lurid gold of summer splashed like paint across your tea-brown walls; curlicues across your bed- room ceiling: complex, inter- locking circles (‘rings left by Goliath’s teacups upside...