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The Tenant

Victor Lodato

‘She’d gotten so used to her loneliness, she didn’t want to fall from it now.’

First Love

Gwendoline Riley

‘It must be a dreadful cross: this hot desire to join in with people who don’t want you.’

His Middle Name Was Not Jesus

NoViolet Bulawayo

‘He didn’t know their language but understood it in their boiling voices, the heat on their faces, how they singed each other with their eyes.’

Bastard Alias the Romantic

Yuri Herrera

‘Can you imagine what it would be like if instead of killing we cuddled?’

In the Garden

F.T. Kola

‘I too quiver. I resonate with the music that vibrates within her.’

things that didn’t happen

Sarah Moss

‘Suddenly, your heart began; suddenly in the darkness of your mother’s womb there was a crackle and a flash and out of nothing, the current began to run.’

Idioglossia

Eimear Ryan

‘There is no face more familiar than one’s own.’

Eat You Up

Kathleen Murray

‘Wasn’t it possible the mental shit would leave the kid’s brain, cell by cell, just by doing normal stuff?’

Navigation

Lisa McInerney

‘His aberrations are formless; he imagines his insanity as a sort of gaseous molecule, looking to react with bugs and glitches.’

Ethelbert and the Free Cheese

Lance Dowrich

‘It was against the understood traditions of society to prepare Sunday lunch without macaroni pie.’ 2016 Commonwealth Short Story Prize – regional winner for the Caribbean.

Eel

Stefanie Seddon

‘The eel I saw was the one lying deep and quiet and alone in his coppery pool in the bush.’ 2016 Commonwealth Short Story Prize – regional winner for Europe and Canada.

The Pigeon

Faraaz Mahomed

‘The pigeon and I have a very warm and comfortable relationship.’ 2016 Commonwealth Short Story Prize – regional winner for Africa.

Pure Gold

John Patrick McHugh

‘That icy fear of the morning after slithered back: why does summer always feel like it belongs to someone else?’

Our Private Estate

Dave Lordan

‘Dozens of votive candles held aloft by mourners in white suits in procession. So much white, as if death could be engulfed in it, as if death itself was not an all-engulfing whiteness.’