The Defenestration of Jezebel by Jack Somers The queen wore her finest on the morning of her death. The lotus silk gown, pale as the blanched beaches of Sidon. The damask linen stole, soft as moth wings, green as the…
Eliza Brightwen Waits for Dawn
Eliza Brightwen Waits for Dawn by Caroline Greene When I walk out here in the night I hear all the sounds of my wakefulness: the clumsy rustle of the hedgehog, the ghoulish bark of the fox, the lonely shriek of…
The Sort-of-True Story of Princess Alexandra of Bavaria
The Sort-of-True Story of Princess Alexandra of Bavaria by Hannah Hoare When I was a child I swallowed a glass piano. Of course it sounds preposterous; you are not the first person to snigger. As I endeavour to squeeze through…
Rex Nemorensis (King of the Woods)
Rex Nemorensis (King of the Woods) by Peter Burns Come, curious minds, back to Old Latium, to Diana’s sacred grove on the shores of Lake Nemi. See her priest-king stalking through the gloom, eyes forever restless, hand ever-steady at his…
Root
Root by Becky Tipper Twelve midwives have come already. Have bustled through the sharp wind with their bundles of charms and bitter herbs. Have sighed and prayed and despaired. Frau Mueller now, her cold hands on Ilsa’s belly, prays to…
God’s Image
God’s Image by Carys Crossen Eleno faces the Inquisition. Their vestments glow red even in the Stygian darkness of his cell. Their eyes shine with religious fervour. They live in a world where uncertainty, transmogrification, introspection do not exist. They…
Torrey Canyon 1967
Torrey Canyon 1967 by Sam Payne We wash seabirds in the sinks at the hairdressers. Their thin bones tremble in our hands as the brown foam slips over stained porcelain. We shift from foot to foot as our fingers work…
The Last of El Dorado
The Last of El Dorado by T. L. Ransome “La Reina! La Reeina!” they cried, stamping mud-worn heels on the dented boards. But she was in pieces in the desert, miles of lace-melt, skin flinted red between saguaros. The tall…
Gibbet
Gibbet by Mark Cassidy Once I was a young boy, clambered limber, surefooted, into an empty gibbet and swung the blackwood, gristle-crusted cage bang tight. Sat squat-faced, open-legged, in the charnel basket, rocking in the swooping sea fret neath racing…
Tussaud
Tussaud by Noa Covo She grows up in a house of abandoned arms and legs. She is taught to count on wax hands severed at the wrist, she caresses faces that end at the neck as her mother dusts. As…