:: Fiction archive ( 2000-2005, click for articles pre-2006)

Anna and Sigm. published 12/01/2015

“Often when I am invited to speak, I show this photograph. Look, it is a photograph of my father and me on holiday. No, of course it is not, do I seem to be a woman who would willingly wear a dirndl? Unless I were a small child. No, of course it is not really a photograph of my father and me on holiday.”

New fiction by Sharon Kivland

»

Fetish Alphabet published 07/01/2015

Z is for Zombies

“‘I am undead,’ she called and spread apart her legs.”

A new fetish every day of the week, by Susannah Breslin.

»

La Femme De Gilles published 20/12/2014

“From every image there came a new fragment of information, a painful little abstraction. None of these fragments was expressed in words, they were silent and without obvious meaning, but they accumulated in her heart and from this mysterious collaboration there would emerge a simple grammatical proposition to sweep away all the irrelevant images to come. In time, all the fragments would be reassembled in a precise truth – astonishingly short, and wholly contained in a fierce little group of words.”

Fiction by Madeleine Bourdouxhe , translated by Faith Evans

»

I’m too sad to tell you about I’m Too Sad to Tell You published 09/12/2014

“I studied with Bas Jan in Los Angeles. One day he invited me to his studio. He arrived as I did, camera in hand, and led me inside. He handed me the camera, stood against the wall and started weeping. I turned on the camera and made the lens stare at him.

After three minutes and twenty-two seconds, the 16mm film ran out. Immediately, the tears stopped, the last one leaving his cheek the moment the film finished.”

New fiction by Juliet Jacques.

»

The Dinner Party Wars published 22/11/2014

“The gunfire began just as Janis Sawyer was serving the main course, a platter of glazed duck with cavalo nero that she was loathe to drop. Shot studded the wall of the lounge. Her guests took cover beneath the cherrywood dining table. Janis dithered. She had plucked, jointed and baked the wild ducks herself, and the urge to protect dinner momentarily overrode her instinct for self-preservation. Dodging a fusillade from what sounded like flint muskets, she hopscotched across broken glass and splintered studwork to lay the platter upon the occasional table.”

Fiction by Matthew De Abaitua, art by Carrie Crow.

»

Anthology One: Boxes published 19/11/2014

“1. A newly-wed couple goes up in a hot-air balloon, and as it lands two different people get out, with no knowledge of how they got there.

2. A family of four returns from a ten-day holiday in southern Spain: their home is no longer there, the ground is levelled, the neighbours have not noticed anything change.”

Martin MacInnes, with art by Carrie Crow.

»

Alight at the next published 17/11/2014

“I forgot. I simply forgot the way that love becomes a whimsy and the full-throttle of throats, the buzz of flightless eyelashes against pillowcases: the pigeons growing full-fat against the frost, the letter ‘p’ in the word ‘receipt’ ticking at the clocked teeth, the watched rim of a clock when I wake up to find the time, from being a cameo in my own dreams occasionally looking straight to camera and spoiling the shot, waking to dumb punk dawns, me, a hopeless sometimes-son-type whose act is hardly there delivering UNHEIMLICH MANOUEVRES like this finger on the centre of this man’s forehead.”

New fiction by Eley Williams, with art by Carrie Crow.

»

Lingo published 10/11/2014

“What disturbed John was being disregarded by everyone. Everyone regards John as incompetent. Everyone regards us as incompetent. The police were ordered to stop drinking after midnight. John didn’t find the book. John was frightened by the new methods. John read the book and so did Bill. Bill was persuaded by John to leave. Bill was a farmer and so was John. John compelled. The shooting of the hunters. I expected it.”

New Fiction by Richard Barnett, with art by Tahnee Lonsdale.

»

Dear A. published 27/10/2014

“We found ourselves in a large room packed full with white metal lockers and beds, a child on each bed, not in neat rows but, rather, as if everything in the room were on castors and as if the room were on a ship and the ship were in distress, and everything all over the place; only once I found that I also was a child, sitting on a bed with a white metal locker beside it, dangling my legs above the linoleum…”

New fiction by Inga Machel, translated by Donal McLaughlin.

»

Go Wild in the Country published 22/10/2014

“Nadine is by my hot head, a curious monkey girl flicking ticks from my hair and rubbing my head. But her hand is cool porcelain; a shop dummy girl in a Victorian dress shop and I start laughing, the Victorian asylum, her Victorian doll-like face, a Victorian clockwork monkey beating a drum, Keith Moon gurning on snare, the pale moon a cymbal, the lay lines that travel beneath me and through the grounds and out onto the Downs, a secret swirling snake . . . wild, go wild in the country. She joins in: ‘where snakes in the grass are absolutely free.’”

New fiction by Alan McCormick.

»