‘I'd already begun to suspect that sex brought misery or death, and now I knew.’
Wheer wor’ ta bahn w’en Ah saw thee,
On Ilkla Moor baht ’at?
Wheer wor’ ta bahn w’en Ah saw thee?
Wheer wor’ ta bahn w’en Ah saw thee?
Sign in to Granta.com.
‘The flirtations of insects and plants are furtive, hidden and often so brief that if you literally blink you might miss what exactly is going on.’
Dino J. Martins on moths and orchids, from Granta 153: Second Nature.
‘The origin of the dysfunctional family: spores. / Friend or foe? True fern or ally?’
Poems by Sylvia Legris, author of Garden Physic.
‘And the trees were safely tucked in. Their roots were rallying in the soil, in this coil. Would the woman also take a turn for the better in her last decade?’
Three stories by Diane Williams.
‘walking alone down a country road – / distracted by the slightly annoying and toxic / first green of spring, eyes overflowing’
A poem by Emily Skillings.
‘Whatever the aftermath, you won’t see the city again except through the agency of absence, recalling this semi-emptiness, this viral uncertainty.’
From 2020: China Miéville on the UK government’s response to coronavirus.
‘One by one they’re led into the box. They swear their oath. They confirm their name, their employment, why they were where they say they were, what it was they saw.’
‘My hopes weren’t high, even to begin with, so I felt no bitterness when He didn’t reveal Himself’
‘When young, we were impatient with our parents: now we want to atone for our callowness, to take measure of them, to understand which parts of them live on in us.’
Wheer wor’ ta bahn w’en Ah saw thee, On Ilkla Moor baht ’at? Wheer wor’...
‘Skirtless, jumperless, she lies on the floor, her hair settling about her like a silky parachute.’
Two women working shifts in a train station make a connection in this short story translated from the German by Katy Derbyshire.
