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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.’
Cow and Company
Parashar Kulkarni
‘And now there were four of them stepping out to look for a cow.’ 2016 Commonwealth Short Story Prize overall winner.
Mayo Oh Mayo
Nuala O’Connor
‘Tonight there is a moon-rind, a nicotined fingernail, hanging low over the lake; above it, a Swarovski sparkler of a star.’
Black Milk
Tina Makereti
‘Despair sat on her shoulders where her wings should have been. Darkness consumed her, the quivering lip of a dying abalone, grease in the barrel of a gun.’ 2016 Commonwealth Short Story Prize – regional winner for the Pacific.
Through the Night
Siobhán Mannion
‘The person in the mirror watches her, slightly swollen, slightly blurred.’
Kiddio at the Wedding
Mary O’Donoghue
‘If he fell in I would jump straight after, I would plumb through water not cold so much as oily, and dark as a dirty wine bottle.’
Bezoar
Guadalupe Nettel
‘This was the morning I discovered the anatomy of a hair.’ New fiction by Guadalupe Nettel, translated from the Spanish by Rahul Bery.
