‘I was alone and isolated. But I was not scared.’
Fiction by Kwame McPherson.
Fancy Little Spoon
‘All sex is about letting go, I tell myself, and it is about time I do.’
Fiction by hurmat kazmi.
Maya C. Popa
‘the widening gap / between two kinds of life: the one lived and the one / remembered.’
Two poems by Maya C. Popa.
Podcast | Jamaica Kincaid
‘The place we come from, the place we call home, is the home of our suffering.’
Jamaica Kincaid talks about finding her way to writing.
‘It was through the telly, Mister, that I learned how my Mothers saw themselves.’
An excerpt from Mister, Mister by Guy Gunaratne.
‘it’s wrong / to let delicacies, even when suspect, go untried’
A poem by Natalie Shapero.
Oceans Away From My Homeland
‘At the entrance to the gynaecology clinic, I ring the bell.’
Fiction by Agnes Chew.
The Undertaker’s Apprentice
‘It was small and delicate and its song was simple but sweet – the perfect gift. The perfect offering.’
Fiction by Hana Gammon.
Notes on Craft
‘Always I tell myself: yes, you transmit but do they, the readers, receive?’
Colin Grant on distilling truth in memoir.
Lech, Prince and the Nice Things
‘I spend the afternoon scarifying ceilings. My neck and shoulders are killing me by the time I leave.’
Fiction by Rue Baldry.
‘Parents should not have to bury their children. I will come to you, she whispers.’
Fiction by Himali McInnes.
‘She could not make me see my best qualities, but she could sit with me.’
Joanna Biggs on literary friendships between women.
‘It was 1 a.m., and it was Los Angeles; they were used to indiscretion.’
A story by Rhian Sasseen.