Tim Bradford
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BODIES THERE TO REMIND US, Andrew Kaye Kauffmann
In the confined space of Ward 8’s corridor, the doctor motioned me to come closer. I looked down at her name badge, and then up again at her kind, reasoning eyes. “We still have to speak to his kidney team, but we think your dad’s going to need an MRI to determine what the lesion…
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HEARTBREAK ON SAINT LAURENT, Agnese Smith
Turning left on to Boulevard Saint-Laurent, Finn braced for impact: a blast of icy wind, straight from the Saint Laurence River. February in Montreal, minus 15. The freezing air left him breathless and unable to stand fully erect.
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TIMES ARE CHANGING, Steven Green
It all started when the Rockers broke up and Shawn Michaels flung Marty Jannetty through the Barber Shop window.
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PHOENIX RISING, Kat Beeton
I was born with witch hands between zeros and ones a wide oak with full floral bloom iridescent spotlight on the crown in my cradle
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SWALLOW/PLANTING FLAGS, Helen Harrison
Scorn is balled tight in my Liverpudlian mother. Her suspect eyes mistrust the colour of green tea leaving me exposed like I am seven years old with a tide mark on my neck.
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THE LONDON EXPRESS/A FINAL BED/PROTEST, Dave Wakely
He must be six then, maybe seven – still young enough for shorts, because that’s what they ought to wear at that age.
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ROOM CONTENDING WITH CONFESSION FINDS HOPE/SAPLINGS/THE TEMPERED LAMENT, Andrew Senior
Light so bright it hurts the eye leaves a burn on the underside and in a film there would be a single note and no one is speaking.
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NORTHERN LIGHTS, by Martha Stutchbury
The dashboard clock ticks through to a new reading – 19:15. Still not here. He rings again, but there’s no answer. Slanted rain dances with Michael’s windscreen wipers, pushing new waves of droplets to the corners of the glass. The standing fare rises to £11.80 and he tenses his jaw. If this guy doesn’t show…
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THE LONELINESS OF SONIA AND SUNNY (KIRAN DESAI), reviewed by Ima Moorthy
Avert loneliness by being an armchair traveller this winter. Whizz from snowy Vermont to where three holy rivers merge in Allahabad; from New York through Delhi smog to the foothills of the Himalayas; from riptides in Goa through sinister Venetian canals to the Mexican desert.
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THREAD OF GOLD/UNSEEN WANDERER, by Paulette Graham
For all the stars in the skies, You remain the sparkling bright— A hidden gem among pearls, dazzling for the watchful eye.
