by Mark Wagstaff | Apr 27, 2009 | Stories
The promise of progress was stuck so thin, the glue on the billboards cracked wide in the harsh, March wind. By Central station – where lads like I’d once been left the northern city – the promise was of clean design, modern civic spaces: the...
by Ken Stephenson | Apr 27, 2009 | Stories
It was during ‘the troubles’ that HMS Alamein was sent to patrol the waters around Cyprus. British Servicemen were considered legitimate targets for the Eoka gunmen so ordinary shore leave was not an option. Any shore leave was limited to sports events within British...
by Andrew Papworth | Apr 26, 2009 | Stories
The night here is hot, stuffy and continuous: ever present rather than surprising, and brutal rather than clever or deceitful. It wallows through the street onto the buses, and between the gaps in the buildings, and through bedrooms and bars. Its soundtrack is the...
by Mike Rogers | Apr 26, 2009 | Stories
‘Dear Mam, I am bulling my boots’ ‘Dear Son, Why are you bulling your boots?’ ‘Dear Mam, I am bulling my boots because the Sergeant says that I must’ ‘Dear Son, Why does the sergeant say that you must?’ ‘Dear Mam, Because he is a bastard’ ‘Dear Son, you should not say...
by Peter Haynes | Apr 25, 2009 | Stories
Diary Entry: Nov 10th. In lieu of hope, I decide there must instead be prayer. So many have lost the light in this murk. It will be a few degrees warmer than last night, we are told. The chaplain is doing visits tonight but I have declined his attention. His messages...
by Sophie Meads | Apr 25, 2009 | Stories
Dense air blossoms in the drawer to which I am confined. Claustrophobic heat nestles between the layers, like a mouse. I am at the bottom of the hierarchy. Forgotten. Left to dwell upon my own neglect. I am a messenger of dark news for this girl whose lifetime is...
