‘As I stood in front of the immigration officer, I was already worrying about my answers to the questions he might ask’.
As I stood in front of the immigration officer, I was already worrying about my answers to the questions he might ask. What would I say if—when—he asked, ‘Why are you coming here?’ And what would I do if they didn’t let me in? I tried to be calm and to compose myself.
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‘The anglophone world, we have to infer, has run out of words for its own feelings.’
Daisy Hildyard on the wisdom of scarecrows.
‘What is the read receipt for?’
Lillian Fishman on texting, power and the ethics of leaving a friend on read.
‘Like pretty much everyone who uses the internet, I have seen many terrible things that I did not search for and that I cannot unsee.’
Rosanna McLaughlin on what the internet thinks she wants.
‘I have a pathological addiction to the internet, which I indulge with the excuse of making art. It rarely translates to anything good and mostly leaves me overstimulated and afraid.’
Paul Dalla Rosa on excess and the internet.
‘rumors of bees on speedwell, / no oxidative stress just / effortless pollination’
Two poems by Sylvia Legris.
I come from a generation which still, fifty-odd years on, looks up and once in a while thinks, 'Good, one of ours.'
‘There had been an unbelievable amount of talk about the weather, not to mention the end of the world and so on’.
As I stood in front of the immigration officer, I was already worrying about my...
As I stood in front of the immigration officer, I was already worrying about my...
The day was ending in a fiery and glorious way. The ships on the Sound looked like paper silhouettes being sucked up into the sun.
