pours its ragged sound upon
the unlit breakers.
‘Promenading’ is taken from The Departure by Chris Emery, forthcoming with Salt.
Photograph by Dominic Alves
‘Promenading’ is taken from The Departure by Chris Emery, forthcoming with Salt.
Photograph by Dominic Alves
‘I think there should be a National Service of Hospitality. The best way to see the true face of humanity is to serve it a plate of chips.’
Camilla Grudova on bad-mannered customers.
‘Anyone who has ever worked night shifts will understand the vertiginous feeling that comes with staring down the day from the wrong end.’
A.K. Blakemore on working nights.
‘I was constantly reading job ads, trying to find my holy grail – a job I could stand to do, and someone foolish enough to hire me.’
Sandra Newman on learning how to play professional blackjack.
‘I loved being a receptionist. What I loved about it was playing the part of being a receptionist.’
Emily Berry on being a temporary office worker.
‘Every part of you would swell, including your eyeballs, and no matter how much water you drank, you were always dehydrated.’
Junot Díaz on working for a steel mill.
Chris Emery lives in Cromer with his wife and children. He is a director of Salt, an independent literary press. His work was anthologised in Identity Parade: New British and Irish Poets (Bloodaxe, 2010). He is a contributor to The Cambridge Companion to Creative Writing, edited by David Morley and Philip Neilsen. ‘Promenading’ is taken from The Departure, forthcoming with Salt.
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‘This set of characters are simultaneously medieval kings and modern aristocrats.’
Allen Bratton on adapting the Henriad and his debut novel Henry Henry.
‘Every part of you would swell, including your eyeballs, and no matter how much water you drank, you were always dehydrated.’
Junot Díaz on working for a steel mill.
‘I tried to work out how many elements I would have plugged if I retired at sixty, and soon I was fatigued before a simple subtraction.’
Fiction by A. Jiang.
‘An enormous black form rose from the water. Uncle Feng told me in a low voice to run fast.’
Fiction by Can Xue, translated by Annelise Finegan.
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