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Life Is Everywhere

Lucy Ives

‘Erin’s mother, whom Erin also loved, was a covetous person, treacherous and clever.’

An excerpt from Lucy Ives’ new novel.

Comfy

Edward Herring

‘Who needs a bed? he said one night. He was drinking beer out of an old dirty pickle jar.’

New fiction by Edward Herring.

Letters from Ukraine

Lindsey Hilsum

‘As every soldier and every journalist who has ever covered a war knows – sleeping and eating are the most important things.’

Lindsey Hilsum writes home from Ukraine.

The Recipe

Rebecca May Johnson

‘The recipe is a text that can produce spattering because it was spattering before it was language.’

Rebecca May Johnson on recipes, repetition and intimacy.

But the Heart in a Sense Is Far from Me Floating Out There

Peter Gizzi

‘It’s right to extract bone from the afterlife’

A poem by Peter Gizzi.

Where Life Lives On

Tess Gunty

An excerpt from Tess Gunty’s debut novel The Rabbit Hutch.

Haunting Myself

Seán Hewitt

‘Lying is something I had become good at with practice.’

An excerpt from All Down Darkness Wide.

Acts of Service

Lillian Fishman

‘I had hundreds of nudes stored in my phone, but I’d never sent them to anyone.’

An excerpt from Lillian Fishman’s new novel.

My Mother Photographs Me in a Bath of Dead Squid

Lars Horn

‘She is not a conventionally “good” mother. But then, put like that, it sounds like a slow death sentence anyhow.’

Lars Horn on modeling for their artist mother.

Diary of a Journey to Senegal

Ishion Hutchinson

‘Sea night music: what is the music?’

Ishion Hutchinson in Senegal.

Ghosts

Adam Foulds

‘It was unmistakable, he said; it was absolutely him.’

Fiction by Adam Foulds.

The Kingdom of Sand

Andrew Holleran

‘In a small town, one thinks that Time is not even passing.’

An excerpt from Holleran’s novel The Kingdom of Sand.

The Lapwing Act

Patrick Galbraith

‘We claimed the places that were theirs and they were forced to take refuge on what we left behind.’

An excerpt from In Search of One Last Song.

The Rub

William Hawkins

‘We were about halfway through our steaks and baked potatoes when she asked me if I was on PrEP.’

Fiction by William Hawkins, winner of the 2022 Disquiet Fiction Prize.