Please accept our apologies as we stand with a basket of light, brighter than its weight in gold. Cherry-picked too. The old lady pledged that it could withstand quite the storm. Perhaps she was right, but the painted sign says in bold: Sadly, The...

      Lies From my window I watch leaves flutter. Seagulls stamping their feet, I play with my loneliness. I write stories, I tell lies like: “My heart leaps at the thought of love.”     Mariam Saidan is Iranian/British and has worked in the...

      Mushroom Picker Mushrooms grow well in chicken manure, but there’s a rumour the farm is experimenting with faeces from the local zoo. We traipse into the shed: a corrugated half-cylinder. I wrangle a ladder that’s taller than me, stuff blue...

      Off colour 1946: a green rabbit and a grey giraffe, crafted by her uncle in hospital in Palestine, where making leather toys was therapy. Good solid toys, and wipeable, sturdy in a toddler’s hand. She wobbled round clutching the giraffe by its...

      Flashback One afternoon (in your next reincarnation) you’ll remember all this and laugh.     Zoe Broome is a Yorkshire poet whose first collection, Back To Yesterday was published by Three Drops Press. When not writing, Broome can be...

      Boy Goes Swimming Boy dives so deep his parents can’t see him, holds his breath pulling rucksacks of air into his lungs. Under the water, his belly scraping the bottom of the pool, Boy opens his eyes and just before the chlorine-sting he sees...

      The generosity of the dead cannot be reckoned in coin or note is peculiar to the moment is subject to whim for the dead are not beyond fancy varies with the season (you might think it greatest at Samhain Dia de Muertos All Hallows’ Eve no: then...