Issue 3

Richard Barnett: The Road to the Beach House

‘Okay, it’s recording,’ I said, leaning in towards her. ‘Let’s get going. ’

Celia permitted herself a faint smile at my expense. Perhaps it was the way I came across – too eager, too earnest by far. I waited a few seconds before clearing my throat and starting again.

Eileen Merriman: Perpetual Motion

Holly is cycling home from work when she sees it. A flash across her peripheral vision, like a shooting star. She blinks. It’s just sunlight reflecting off the side mirror of the green hatchback giving way to her at the roundabout. Holly thinks she saw that car yesterday.

Michelle Elvy: A Midsummer Night's Shore

Coasting, gently coasting. Our sailing skiff moves purposefully parallel to the shore. A sandbar juts out, and canvas claps as we tack away. A heron wheeling low near shallows, to port. We tack again, and you say, Going in closer, and grin, Puck-like.

Anna Forsyth: Running to Hamilton

“Run to Hamilton and tell me that. ” Those were her exact words. Hamilton’s words. But she had forgotten the conversation we had two weeks earlier about brains and how some are wired differently. I’d told her about the spectrum and where my brain sat on that scale.

Zoë Meager : The Scar

She rests in Ahmad’s chair. The way it creaks used to drive her crazy.  

I understand that it is difficult for you to continue living in the house where your husband had his accident and, once again, I extend my deepest sympathies to you at this difficult time.