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My Father’s Lover Was Never the Stepdad I Wanted Him to Be

Isabel Waidner

A letter to footballer Justin Fashanu – excerpted from Isabel Waidner’s novel Sterling Karat Gold.

Ricks & Hern

Nico Walker

‘Naturally, no partnership is perfect. Certain pieces will be at odds – you’ll have that.’

Fiction by Nico Walker.

The Mountain Road

William Wall

‘Funeral homes are always cold. There were pine benches in lines like a church. They had been varnished recently and there was that heady smell. It reminded me of my father’s boat, the wheelhouse brightwork newly touched up. It was the smell of childhood.’

Ways of Knowing

Lauren Wallach

‘Maybe I was born with this face the way moths are born with the ability to blend in with bark, to survive.’

Stillness | State of Mind

Eoghan Walls

‘It is half twelve and I am labouring over the word Stillen. My laptop is open on the coffee table, pushed up against baby wipes and a row of empties.’

Enzo Ponza

Joanna Walsh

‘I was still quite a small girl when I decided to kidnap Enzo Ponza.’

What Terrible Thing It Was

Esmé Weijun Wang

‘Dennis with his bespectacled eyes on his phone, performing the act of emotional multitasking. While I’ve been psychotic, he’s been phone banking.’

Given

Jesmyn Ward

‘Given played football with single-minded purpose his senior year, the fall before he died.’

The Deadman’s Pedal

Alan Warner

‘Each man’s right hand was stained black with glossy wet muck.’

The Costa Pool Bums

Alan Warner

‘We were a helpless community put in motion together.’

In The Event

Eva Warrick

‘The sky hung bizarrely brownish and heavy below a pink teacup sun, like a portent of the outer space invasion.’

A story by Eva Warrick.

Natural History

Eva Warrick

‘Vita thought she saw a handgun in her father’s underwear drawer.’

Family Meal

Bryan Washington

‘It’s a paper bag filled with pastries. Chicken turnovers.’

An extract from Family Meal by Bryan Washington.

Helen and Julia

Sarah Waters

‘She felt exhausted, emptied out; she thought of the day that had passed—it was astonishing to her, that a single set of hours could contain so many separate states of violent feeling.’